


Scars

by vanillaxo



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-10-22 18:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillaxo/pseuds/vanillaxo
Summary: Sometimes, traumatic things happen to us and our brains don’t know how to function in its aftermath.And so, they shut down. Toss it away. Put it in the back of our mind. Forget about it. Because denial is easier than accepting what happened to be true.Peter once couldn’t understand how that could be true. But then, Skip Westcott transferred to Midtown High.But then, Peter began to remember.And he shut down.TW: This story centers heavily on sexual assault and the aftermath of it. Please don’t forget to practice self-care before, during, and after reading.





	1. The past meets the present

**Author's Note:**

> TW: As I’ve stated in the summary, this story is all about sexual assault and its impact afterwards. Please be very mindful of your own feelings as you read on. 
> 
> I also wanted to share that I am writing this story as a sort of form of catharsis for me. The topic of sexual assault hits me very, very close to home, and I admit that Peter’s experience will be a sort of reflection of my own. 
> 
> That being said, I will make mistakes. I will be messy. I will be struggling. But I also will be doing my best to not only write a story that you all enjoy at least a little bit, but also to be a voice for those who feel silenced. 
> 
> Slight rant aside, thank you for reading and please enjoy! 
> 
> (P.S. For the sake of the story, Skip is the same age as Peter!)

Mondays. 

The epitome of evil. 

Mondays were Peter’s worst days, like for so many others, but Peter couldn’t put into words how much he hates Mondays. 

Mondays were not only the day that school began again for the new week, but it was also Peter’s longest day. Peter had school from 8-3, and afterwards, he had decathlon practice until 5. After decathlon practice, Peter had patrol (if May asks, he’s at Ned’s at this time). 

Not to mention that Peter’s especially tired on Mondays due to Saturday and Sunday, Peter’s favorite days, which are the days that Peter spends the weekend at the Avengers Tower. Peter’s weekend generally consists of a mixture of training, lab work with Mr. Stark and occasionally Dr. Banner, and lounging around with the Avengers. 

The events of the weekend always left Peter tired on his Monday return to school, however, he always felt like it was worth it. Because who would turn down hanging out with the Avengers? Not Peter, that’s who! 

But on this particular Monday, Peter felt an even deeper hatred for the day. He couldn’t tell why, because he was in a fantastic mood yesterday and before he went to bed. Peter shrugged internally, figuring he was just having an off day. 

“Peter!” Jumping out of his reverie at the sound of his best friend’s voice, Peter spun around with a huge smile planted on his face. 

“Ned! How’s it going?” Peter asked as Ned approached him with a smile to equal his. 

“Great! My mom took me out yesterday to buy more hats to build my confidence. I just think that hats are the best added accessory to any wardrobe, don’t you think? And best part, everyone can pull them off!”

The two young boys walked side to side through the hallways filled with teenagers as they headed to class. 

Peter smiled softly at his friend’s antics. “Yeah, they’re great. You’ll have to show me next time I come over!”

“And when are you coming over next? I know you come over everyday,” Ned said with air-quotes. “But when can you really? My parents miss you, man!”

Peter twinged slightly with guilt. Being a superhero, student, teammate, mentee, nephew, and friend all at once was not easy to balance. But he knew that his friend was important too, and he had to make time sometime soon for him. 

“Sorry! It’s just super hectic, but I promise to come over sometime in these next few weeks alright?” Peter said apologetically, but Ned was never one to get upset or hold grudges, smiling and nodding happily. 

Before they could really continue their conversation, they made it to the doorway of their classroom and headed to their seats, preparing for class to begin. 

-

Once school was over, Peter wanted nothing more than to head home and take a nice, long nap. 

But unfortunately, he had decathlon practice straight after and he knew that if he came in late one more time, MJ would rip his head off. 

“You’re on time for once, Parker,” MJ mentioned right as he walked in the room, and Peter could hear Flash snicker under his breath and mumble something. Ignoring him completely, Peter went over to his spot next to Ned, and usually, Abe. 

But this time, a person Peter didn’t recognize was in his place, talking animatedly with Cindy on his right. 

Peter merely nodded and offered MJ a slight smile, to which she turned away from, but there remained a slight upward turn of her lips as she did so. 

“Hey, what happened to Abe?” Peter whispered over to Ned, who opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by MJ’s surprisingly loud voice. 

“Alright, nerds. Glad you all could make it to practice on time,” Her gaze lingered a little longer on Peter who gave a sluggish smile. “As you might’ve noticed, Abe did not grace us with his wonderful presence,” The nonchalant sarcasm that seemed permanently instilled in MJ’s voice laid emphasis on the world ‘wonderful’, “And that is because he had some family emergency that made him leave the state. In his place, we got new kid Skip Westcott filling in.”

The name sent a jolt throughout Peter’s body, and Peter felt the low hymn of his spider senses reacting, but Peter had no idea why. The name sounded... familiar, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. 

MJ gestured over to the boy sitting on Peter’s right, and Skip flashed everyone a smile and wave. 

“Hey, guys. Thanks for having me and thanks, MJ, was it? For welcoming this new kid in.” His tone held a whole lot of charm and charisma, and Peter could see that all the girls (excluding MJ) were swooning over him. 

Peter could only see the side profile of Skip’s face for most of the practice, and each time he got a look, it was fleeting because Peter didn’t want to seem creepy by staring at the guy for too long. 

But something about this Skip dude struck a nerve in Peter. And that bothered him, because Peter was never one to judge anyone before he knew them, but it didn’t help that his Spidey-senses were slightly on alert when it came to him. 

What Peter got out of that practice with Skip part of the team was the Skip was a, very charming and confident but not in a Flash sort of way, b, very intelligent and eloquent by the way he answered MJ’s questions, and c, very good with girls. Peter could’ve sworn that he made MJ smile slightly, and that was a huge accomplishment for anyone, much less a new kid that she just met. 

At the end of the practice when MJ dismissed them, Peter accidentally knocked Skip’s water bottle down. 

His spider senses screamed at him to catch it before it hit the ground, but Peter, not wanting to raise any suspicions, let it fall before picking it up. 

“Sorry about that!” He apologized, handing over the bottle to Skip, who he was able to see fully for the first time. 

Again, something in Peter twinged, and he felt his senses get slightly more kicked up a notch but he still couldn’t figure out why. 

For a moment, everything was still, because the smile that Skip had on his face immediately dropped out of shock when he caught sight of Peter’s face, but returned when Peter only gave him a confused look. 

“That’s alright, buddy. Peter, right? Good to see you.” Skip clicked his tongue at him and smiled at Ned, who was now standing beside Peter, before turning around and heading out with his new group of fans, Cindy and Flash. 

Peter remained standing, his eyebrows furrowed, because his voice sounded so familiar. Everything about him seemed so familiar all of a sudden, but he still couldn’t place where he came from. 

And for some reason, Peter was unnerved by the way Skip first looked at him, and how he told Peter “good to see you” rather than “nice to meet you.” 

Don’t people only really say “good to see you” when they’ve seen that person at least once before?

“Hey, you good?” His best friends voice once again shook him out of his thoughts, and Peter nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

Ned gave Peter a look that said ‘I don’t believe you,’ but he dropped it anyway and the two headed out for the day. 

-

‘Hey, kid. How was your day? Clint couldn’t shut up today about how you beat him at Mario-Kart yesterday because you “cheated.” I think you hurt the poor old man’s heart.’

Peter’s phone pinged, and he read the message from his mentor and quite possibly his favorite person on earth, alongside Aunt May and Ned. 

It had become an everyday occurrence for Peter and Tony to text each other everyday if they’re not able to physically see each other that day, and to just update each other on what’s happening. 

Peter would never tell Tony (because Tony always got somewhat flustered when Peter was being “cheesy”) but those texts are what Peter looks forward to the most everyday. 

Something in Peter itched to tell Mr. Stark about his peculiar experience today, but ultimately decided not to, because he was sure it was nothing. Like he told himself earlier in the day, he’s probably just having an off day. 

He kept up the conversation with his mentor until Mr. Stark realized that it was past 12:00AM and forced Peter to stop texting him and go to sleep, to which Peter appeased him by saying he would, when in reality Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to get much sleep. 

He couldn’t help his mind from wandering to Skip. Thinking about him made Peter feel queasy, and thus frustrated, because Peter couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it is that made Skip seem so threatening to him. 

Groaning and throwing his head deep into his pillow, Peter tried to block those thoughts out of his head and go to sleep.

An uneasy sleep came to Peter within a few hours, and he drifted off to sleep, dreaming about unwanted touches and charming voices, before completely forgetting about it when he woke the next morning.


	2. He knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get pretty dark towards the end. Be warned. 
> 
> This was incredibly hard to write. 
> 
> Peter, I am so sorry. :(

“Kid.”

“Kid.”

“Hey, spider baby.”

“Hello? Anyone home in there?”

Feeling something hit his shoulder, Peter jumped nearly a mile out of his seat and he had to force himself to not stick on the ceiling. He would’ve been safe to, of course, being that he was residing in Avengers Tower, particularly sitting on one of the stools at the common kitchen. But some old habits die hard, and Peter found himself forcing the urge down. 

Looking over at the culprit, his admittedly devoted, unorthodox mentor, was looking at Peter with what someone else might see as slight irritation in his face, but Peter knew him better and knew that Mr. Stark was more worried than anything. And that was not good. 

“Sorry, Mr. Stark! I just... drifted off a little bit. What were you saying about Rhodey? Oh, I’m sorry, I mean your ‘honey bear’? Geez Mr. Stark, if that’s what you call your best friend, I definitely don’t want to know what you call Pepper,” Peter shot a grin, purposely trying to change the direction of the conversation, but he internally knew it was to no avail. Mr. Stark always saw right through him. 

Tony only crossed his arms and gave him a look that his fellow avengers always called the “dad look,” something Tony heavily denied. 

“You alright, kid? Normally, your super creepy bug senses would’ve kicked in and spotted that fridge magnet coming from a mile away. Plus, you’ve been pretty out of it lately.”

What was Peter supposed to say? ‘Sorry, Mr. Stark, I haven’t been sleeping well lately because this new kid in school makes me feel uneasy when he hasn’t even done anything to me in the first place’? 

Instead, he chose, “Yeah, I’m fine, Mr. Stark, really. I’m just a little tired. Also, it’s spider senses, not bug senses. Out of all people, your genius brain should know the difference.” Picking up the abandoned magnet, Peter threw it in the direction of his mentor but it flew past him and stuck perfectly on the fridge- where it lay previously before. 

“See? Spidey senses seem to be a-okay. Can we watch Disney movies while we wait for the others to come? Oh, and let’s bring Dr. Banner out here! He’s always in his lab, he deserves a break.”

Peter continued to ramble on as usual, and although Tony didn’t believe his mentee when he said things were fine with him, he dropped it anyway. 

Contrary to popular belief, Tony wasn’t the kid’s father, and even if he was, he wouldn’t want to force the kid into telling him what’s going on. He’d want Peter to willingly come to him and let him know what’s been irking him, otherwise, Tony would drop it until that time came. And hopefully, that time would come soon, because although Tony would never admit it aloud, he was worried. 

-

Later that night, 2 Disney movies later, Peter was crashed out on the couch with his head on his mentor’s lap and feet on Natasha (nobody said anything about the latter; everybody already learned by now to not mention the domesticity and care capacity of the “deadly” Black Widow for Peter). 

Tony unknowingly began running his hand through Peter’s hair, thinking intently about what might be making him so tired and out of it. 

“Is Peter alright? He’s been very off the past few days,” Steve’s voice rang through the air, voicing what everybody else was thinking. 

“Yeah, I noticed it too. He keeps blanking out and it takes forever to bring him back to the present. And he looks... thinner? Paler? I dunno, he acts and looks different somehow,” Clint pointed out this time, very visibly worried about Peter. Being a father himself, Clint knew the warning signs of when a kid wasn’t doing too good, and he considered Peter to be like a nephew to him. 

Dr. Banner sat on the opposite end of the couch, quietly, but he didn’t hide his gaze which was firmly on the sleeping boy. In spite of his silence, everybody knew he was concerned too. 

Even Natasha, who had his feet propped on her lap, remained silent too, but her face was more impassive. However, she didn’t tear her gaze away from the face of her fellow spider, clearly trying to analyze and figure out what was wrong with him. 

“Can we keep it down a little bit? The kid hasn’t been sleeping well, that much is obvious despite how many times he tells me he is, and I don’t want him waking up to this particular conversation.” Tony never looked away from Peter as he spoke in hushed tones, still running his fingers through his hair. 

“Aren’t you at least a little bit worried, Tony?”

“Of course I’m worried!” Tony’s voice rose a little bit, but he immediately shut his mouth and looked down at the boy to make sure he didn’t wake up, but he didn’t stir in the slightest. Relaxing a bit more, Tony resumed combing his fingers through his hair and looked up at his teammates. 

“Yes, I’m concerned,” Tony started again, this time at a more appropriate volume. “But what am I supposed to do? I can’t read minds, and I already brought it up a few times and he always waves it off, and I don’t want to force him. I’m trying to make him come to me, but...” He trailed off, once again looking down at Peter who started letting out soft snores. 

“Maybe it has something to do with school. I noticed that kids are a lot more stressed now about school than before, there’s always so much on their plates. Or maybe it’s patrolling. He’s not hurt anywhere right? And is everything alright at home with him?” Steve pondered, and Tony let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. 

“I don’t know, Cap. To my knowledge, school is okay right now. We already dealt with the Flash kid, and his grades and attendance are still exceptional. I’m sure he’s stressed, but it’s probably a stress that’s always there as a student. And he’s not hurt, I always make Karen notify me if his vitals don’t look promising, and I keep a close eye on him when he uses the suit. And again, May hasn’t said anything so I’m guessing she hasn’t noticed and that things are going by normally in their household. So to wrap things up, I still don’t have a clue.”

Steve still looked troubled, and even confused. Not much else could be said for anybody else; everyone was pretty much the same. Ever since Peter came into their lives, they grew used to his energetic and happy presence. He was a joy to have both in the Tower and on the battlefield as Spider-Man. But regardless of how much Peter tried to act normal, he couldn’t get anything across a bunch of superheroes. 

-

Yawning, Peter walked into his third class of the day. It was Friday, and Peter couldn’t be more thankful for it. That meant Peter could try to sleep more, and he’d be staying over with Avengers for the weekend. 

Smiling in spite of himself, he walked over to his seat only to stop suddenly, his smile dropping from his face. Sitting next to him was none other than Skip, who looked innocent enough while talking to people around him, but red flags rang in Peter’s head. It’s been 5 days since Skip came to Midtown, and all times before, Peter knew he never shared a class with Skip. He only saw Skip at decathlon practice, and that was enough to set him over the edge. 

But now, here he was, in the same class as Peter, and for some reason, Peter felt trapped. Claustrophobic. 

Taking his seat and trying to avoid any confrontation with the boy seated next to him, he took out his textbook and notebook, already diligently taking notes before the class officially started. 

To his luck, Skip didn’t try talking to Peter before or during the class period. However, Peter could see Skip frequently throwing side glances at him, and he kept shifting his body language towards him. 

Something inside Peter yelled at him to run, to leave, but Peter was frozen in his spot. ‘Why does this feel so familiar?’ He thought to himself. 

Eventually, class ended, and Peter swore he has never shot up from his seat and fled a classroom that fast before. 

The day drew on, thankfully without more surprise encounters with Skip, but once school was over and decathlon practice started, Peter knew he’d have to see him again. 

Walking into practice, once again just making it on time, he offered everybody’s smiles and hellos as he went over to his seat. 

Skip was sitting on his right, as usual, but what struck Peter was that along with his usual fan club of Cindy and Flash, Ned was now standing with them, laughing and talking animatedly with Skip. 

‘No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening.’ Peter thought, and he had a strong urge to slam his head against his desk. Repeatedly. 

Peter knew he was overreacting, but he couldn’t help but feel betrayed, and alone. It sucked. 

Once again trying to busy himself until MJ officially started practice, he pulled out his phone and texted May, asking how her day went. Like with Mr. Stark, it wasn’t uncommon for Peter to text his aunt randomly. 

‘Hi May! How’s your day going? I’m in decathlon practice right now, and randomly thought of you. Can’t wait to see you later tonight!’

‘Hi, baby. Are you sure it’s alright for you to be texting me during practice? ;) Stop being a rebel! And I’m doing great, besides missing you! Can’t wait to see you at home 5’o’clock sharp.’

‘Yeah, we’re just waiting for MJ to come in. For someone who always gets on me for coming late, she comes in quite late for team captain. Oh well! She means well anyway. I miss you too! (Also, can we make it 5:30 sharp? Practice ends at 5 and I doubt I’ll make it back home by that time)’

‘Fine. 5:30 sharp, alright? I’ll be waiting up for you. Btw, what do you want for dinner? I was going to make pasta, but we both know how that will go. You feeling up to Thai? Or pizza?’

Peter was barely able to read his aunts text before MJ walked in and began practice. Deciding to reply later on, Peter locked his phone and prepared for the long practice. 

-

True to his word, practice ended at precisely 5. Excited to head home to spend time with his aunt (on Friday’s he went out to patrol at night when she was asleep), Peter bid goodbye to his best friend before walking out onto the hallways. 

Peter could already sense he was there before he called out to him. 

“Hey, Peter!” Skip called out, jogging over to catch up with Peter. 

Peter froze, and cursed his luck, but put on a courteous smile when Skip approached him. 

“Hey Skip. What’s up?” Peter stuffed his hands into his pockets to hide his shaking hands. ‘What is wrong with me?’

“Nothin’ much. Hey, if it’s alright, I was wondering if I could speak with you in private for a bit?” 

‘NO!’ A voice in Peter shouted, but Peter pushed it aside, not wanting to be rude to this guy who never did anything to him to evoke these sort of feelings. He was being irrational, he knew it, so he offered Skip a smile and nodded, letting him lead the way. 

Skip went ahead and took the lead, and Peter followed slightly behind, trying to calm his racing heart. 

‘He didn’t do anything to you,’ Peter repeated to himself. ‘Stop being like this. You’re Spider-Man. Spider-Man wouldn’t act like this to some innocent kid.’

Coming up to an empty classroom, Peter walked in as Skip held the door open for him. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

Peter’s heartbeat rang loudly in his ears. He could barely make out what Skip was saying. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

Skip let out a little chuckle and sat at a nearby desk while Peter remained standing near the door. “I said, are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to sit down?”

Peter let out a nervous laugh. “Oh. Yeah, uh, I’m good here. This won’t take long anyway, right? I kind of have somewhere to be.” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it, buddy. This won’t take long. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Skip’s tone shifted slightly towards the end of his sentence and Peter couldn’t take his eyes of the unfamiliar yet familiar boy. Those dark brown eyes and chestnut hair... Peter knew he’s seen him somewhere before. 

Uncertain of what else to say, Peter let out a quiet, “Yeah?”

Skip let out a little sniff and turned away slightly, looking towards the windows at the opposite end of the classroom. 

“You know, you can drop the act. You know what, let me tell you, if you drop the act, then I will too, alright?” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and opened his mouth to ask what the hell he meant, but Skip went on some more. 

“Alright. So, when I first came here, I had no idea that you went here. In all honesty, I forgot you even existed. That is, until that day at decathlon practice. When I saw you, I was so shocked, and I was afraid that you’d recognize me and it would all go down the drain. But the way you looked at me, with so much confusion and curiosity in your eyes, I fooled myself into thinking you forgot.”

“And that would’ve been great, easier, you know. But days pass and I catch you constantly glimpsing at me from the corner of your eye. The way you’d pale when you saw me. The way you try to pretend you’re busy with other things so you don’t have to talk to me. And then I realized, you did remember, you’re just trying to pretend that you don’t in front of me because you’re afraid.”

“And that’s just fine. You’re not over it. Whatever. But I just wanted to strike a deal with you, alright? I came to this school and joined all these clubs and teams because I’m planning on applying to M.I.T. when I graduate, and I can’t have you tattling on me because that would really put a damper on my plans.”

“So, I propose that you don’t say anything, and as a reward, I won’t do it again. Sound good?” 

By the time Skip finished, Peter’s heart was beating rapidly and he felt light-headed. He knew... he knew what Skip was talking about. But... it couldn’t be. That couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be. 

Peter felt as if his heart had plummeted to his stomach. He knew, but he didn’t know what he knew. He knew, but he couldn’t accept it. He didn’t even know what to accept in the first place. He was in denial. He didn’t know what to do. 

Skip finally turned to look at Peter and rose from his seat, a smile on his face, striding towards Peter. 

Fear spreading throughout his veins, Peter backed away and ended up pressing himself against the wall, trapped. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Keep your end of the deal, okay?” Skip went closer to Peter, and Peter shut his eyes tightly, frozen to the spot. 

“I appreciate it. You’ve always been a good listener,” Skip rubbed Peter’s arm. “Einstein.”

With that, Peter’s eyes flew wide open and he felt all the blood rush from his face and all the heat concentrated on the spot on his arm where Skip had touched him. 

He knew. 

His eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything. He didn’t even notice Skip leave the room. He was seeing through the eyes of a frightened 12 year old kid who couldn’t fight him. Who couldn’t stop him. Who couldn’t do anything. Who let him go through with it. 

‘Hey, Einstein! Let’s hang out today.’

‘Come on, it’ll be fun. Don’t you want to have fun?’

‘Einstein, I like you. Don’t make any noise or else I’ll have to punish you. And I don’t want to have to do that, alright?’

‘Don’t tell anyone.’

Peter felt like his insides were on fire. He could feel his touches on him, and he never felt more disgusted with himself in his life. He wanted to cry, scream out, but nothing was coming out. Peter stood there motionless, his whole world crumbling around him, and he wished more than anything that he could just forget again. 

Einstein. 

Peter brought his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tightly, sliding to the ground. 

‘Shut up,’ Peter begged the voice in his head to cease. ‘Please, please shut up.’

But they wouldn’t stop. Because like a volcano, the memories and voices were once dormant and at bay, but once they were activated they spurred out red, hot lava and ash that destroyed everything in its path. 

He hated himself. 

Peter absolutely, and undeniably hated himself so much. 

He wanted to crawl out of his skin and set it on fire, he wanted to be anybody but him at this moment. 

He has never felt so trapped by his own body. 

Peter felt his panic rise as he sat trembling on the ground, and felt the claustrophobia settling in. 

He couldn’t handle it. So he went to the nearest window, and having no regard to putting his suit on, shot his web-shooters and flew away. He didn’t care who saw him. Nobody was around to see him, but even if there were, Peter wouldn’t care. Peter didn’t care about anything at this point. He wanted to run away from himself. 

He kept swinging, and he didn’t even know where he was going. He just swung from one building to the next, one after another and another and another. 

He swung until the sun began to set, the pretty orange of the sky turning into a dark blue, and he swung until he felt sweat drip from his face and his chest heaving. Finally, he landed on top of a random building in New York, and Peter just sat on its edge, his head in his hands, panting in and out. 

“I can’t do it,” Peter murmured to himself. “Why now. Why now.”

Memories of Skips unwanted touches flashed through his brain, Peter’s terrified voice ringing “No, please stop!” repeatedly in his head, and the feeling of complete violation were all fresh in his mind. 

Peter deep down knew that he was dealing with all this now because he never gave himself the chance before. 

He was young, so innocent, when it happened that his young brain couldn’t comprehend it. And he eventually learned to pretend it never happened, because maybe then, it’d be easier. 

But no. God, no. This was so much harder. Because this was a fresh wound out on display, and it was infected. And Peter had no idea how to stop the infection. 

Squeezing his fists so tightly that the insides of his hands bled, Peter threw his head back and let out a primal yell that he couldn’t even recognize as his own voice, screaming the scream that he wasn’t able to scream when Skip originally bounced into his life and stole something from Peter that he would never be able to get back. 

Himself. 

The scream had felt like Peter was tearing his throat open, he could taste his own salty tears choking him, and his lungs were struggling to catch a breath. 

Peter had never been more certain that he was drowning.


	3. Pain and Renewal

Golden sunlight, that only ever appears before the nightly veil of darkness, poured through the wide windows and spilled onto every inch of the Avengers training room. 

A room that was once confined to the singular color of silver- silver walls and silver floors- excluding the tall windows that overlooked the lively city, was now shrouded in golden rays of light. 

“And why are we training at this time of day? It’s already so late!” Clint asked, his sentence coming out in a pant. Taking a breather, he relaxed his grip on his arrows and went to take a swig of water. 

“Alright relax, grandpa. It’s half past 6- it’s not that late. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Replied the ever-kind Tony, throwing his sweaty towel at the archer, who let out a yell and ran as far away as he could from the nasty towel. “I’ll have you know that that towel filled with my sweat is worth more than you! People on eBay sell napkins I’ve blown my nose into for thousands of dollars!”

Across the room, a certain assassin-turned spy-turned-Avenger rolled her eyes, and went over to Pepper, who sat on the couch doing CEO responsibilities. 

“That is actually very true,” Bruce pointed out, and Tony clapped his hands and gestured towards his scientist friend. 

Running around the large Avengers training room, not paying any attention to what he considers “nonsense,” was Steve who went through his laps without breaking a sweat like it was nothing. 

Training often always started out with Clint trying to keep up with the Captain, but giving up halfway, because who was he to try and keep up with a super-soldier?

“Tony,” Pepper called from her spot on the couch, holding out his phone. Natasha was sitting next to her, and it seems like the two were having a nice conversation before Tony’s phone interrupted. “You have a call.”

Wiping his hands, Tony went over to take the phone, unconcerned at first but he felt his eyebrows furrow when he looked at the caller ID. 

“May? What’s going on?”

That caught the attention of everybody in the room. Steve, who was halfway across the room but could still hear thanks to the serum, stopped his running to hear more of the conversation. 

Clint and Bruce both were walking towards Tony, and Natasha and Pepper were very clearly trying to listen in on the phone call. 

Tony, on one hand, was already concerned the second he picked up the phone. It’s not that he and May never spoke; in reality, the both of them spoke more often than one might assume. They both speak often about Peter, keeping each other updated with what they’re observing or hear from him, in hopes of ensuring the best for him. 

But what worried Tony was that May never called on Fridays. He knew Fridays were May and Peter days, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that, especially since May works more than enough and doesn’t get to see her nephew as much as she pleases. And here she was, calling Tony, her voice audibly shaken. 

“Tony? Oh thank God you answered. I didn’t know what to do, I-I...” May stammered, her nerves completely betraying her normally cool and collected tone. 

“May, just breathe, alright? Talk to me,” Tony coaxed, and as he did so, he was already grabbing everything he needed for the suit. 

“Okay. Okay. So, u-uh, you know Fridays are my bonding days with Peter? We both always look forward to it, and we were texting each other about it at around 3, and we confirmed that he would be coming back home at 5:30 sharp. I texted asking what we wanted for dinner, and he didn’t reply but I originally didn’t think much of it because I assumed practice had started and couldn’t reply just then. 

But then 5:30 came, and he wasn’t home which I thought was weird because Peter wouldn’t ever miss our Fridays for the world. I waited a bit more, and still no show. I grew a bit panicked so I went over to his school and called Ned, and nobody saw or heard from him since decathlon practice. I decided to drive around to where I thought he might be, but I can’t find him anywhere, a-and it’s been a whole hour, Tony! This isn’t like my Peter at all, and it’s dark out now, and I’m just afraid something happened to him...” 

May’s voice fell quiet due to her fear, and visions of Peter alone and dying like Ben swept over her like a tidal wave and she suddenly couldn’t speak anymore. 

“Okay, it’s going to be okay, alright, May? I’m going to go look for him now, and I will find him, I promise you. Where are you right now?”

She muttered something that sounded distinctly like “home” and Tony nodded, and then remembered she couldn’t see him. 

“Okay, good. Stay home. Don’t go wandering the streets of New York looking for him, it’s not safe. I’ll go ahead and take the suit and find him, okay? Peter will be fine.”

Tony wasn’t quite sure if he was trying to convince May or himself, but after May quietly thanked him and hung up, Tony realized it was more himself. 

Immediately, Tony threw the phone to the side and stepped into the Iron Man suit, demanding for FRIDAY to call Peter as well as track his suit. 

The line rang, but Tony’s senses were bombarded by angry Avengers. 

“Tony! What the hell just happened?”

“What happened? Where’s Peter?”

“Stark, where are you going?”

“Tony, what was all that about?”

“Is everything okay?”

Tony cussed under his breath when he was sent to voicemail, and FRIDAY told him that his suit was offline, and as a result, he couldn’t track its location. 

“Tony!”

Tony took a sharp breath and turned to his teammates and fiancé. “I’m going to go find my kid.”

“Woah, woah, woah, Stark. You’re not going by yourself. We’re going with you.” Steve placed his hand on the metal shoulder. 

“No,” Tony interjected, his voice sharp and nervous. “Stay here. Maybe he’ll come here, and you guys need to stay here in case he does.”

“I’m staying, Tony. I’ll be here if he shows up. Don’t worry about that,” Pepper’s firm voice broke through. 

“Plus, we care about Peter too. He’s part of our team and we take care of each other.” Steve’s voice was equally firm. 

Tony looked around at all of them, each of them suited up and ready to go. 

“Fine. He’s not answering his cellphone, and he’s not wearing his suit. That means we’ll be looking for a needle in a haystack, but we’re finding him. I’m not coming back here without him.” This time, Tony’s voice was firm, and nobody spoke against him. “However, knowing Peter, I’m guessing that he’s on top of a rooftop somewhere. I’ll take to the skies looking at all the rooftops, and you all go everywhere else. Anyone catches sight of Peter, you let everybody else know immediately, understood?”

It was a bit odd having Tony take the place of “leader” for the day, but everyone knew that when it came to Peter, Tony would do whatever it takes to keep him safe. 

The Avengers all nodded and immediately went into action. 

Tony didn’t wait for any of his teammates- once he got the affirmative from them, he turned around to head outside and blasted off into the sky. 

By now, the sky was starting to darken, the golden rays no longer visible, and Tony cursed under his breath. 

‘Come on, Peter,’ Tony thought to himself as he flew through the air to scan every rooftop in search for a certain brunette-haired boy with innocent brown eyes. 

After 10 minutes of searching, Tony was beginning to grow antsy. 

“Any luck?” He tipped into his comm, and the rest of the Avengers sadly reported back ‘no’.

Getting more desperate by the minute, Tony ordered FRIDAY to call Peter one more time. 

Again, the call went to voicemail. 

“Fuck!” Tony blurted, tiring of not knowing where his kid was, and not knowing if he was safe and okay. 

Still, Tony continued on, soaring through the sky, hoping that Peter would show himself. 

It wasn’t for another 15 minutes until Tony caught sight of a figure sitting on a ledge of a 60 foot building, the figure’s head in their hands. 

“FRI, let the others know I found Peter. Send them the location while you’re at it.” 

“Yes, boss.”

Landing softly on the rooftop, Tony stepped out of his suit and walked slowly to the visibly distressed teen. 

It was nearing 8:00PM at this point, so the sky was dark and Tony couldn’t see Peter clearly, but from what he could tell, Peter didn’t look physically harmed. Mentally, well, that was another deal. 

As he neared, Tony stopped a few feet away, afraid of startling him. “Pete?”

Peter made no movement, not even a flinch. The only movement to be noted was the wind blowing through his hair and body, making him shake slightly. 

“Hey, Pete?”

Still, no response whatsoever. 

“Peter, are you-“ Tony softly placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, and before his hand even made full contact, Peter let out a pained yelp and threw himself back to solid ground, inching away from Tony. 

“P-please... please don’t touch me,” Peter’s voice shook, but that was nothing compared to how violently his body shook. He crossed his arms and hunched his body slightly, as if he was withdrawing and hiding himself. 

The sight of Peter resembling more of a wounded animal than human was like a slap in the face to Tony. 

“Okay, I won’t touch you, Peter. I promise. It’s just me, Tony. Mr. Stark. It’s just me. I would never hurt you,” Tony tried gently, but it was like Peter couldn’t hear him. He was still shaking, and his eyes were wide and glossy. 

Before Tony could even think of what to do next, he heard the sound of a quinjet landing behind him, but Tony kept his eyes trained on Peter to make sure he wouldn’t run away. 

That proved as no problem, because Peter didn’t even notice the jet. He didn’t notice any of his surroundings- he was in a whole other world. 

The Avengers rushed to the pair, before stopping slightly before reaching them once they took in the situation. 

“Peter...?” 

Tony turned to look at his teammates, and they were all regarding Peter with concern. 

Tony hadn’t even realized that he was trembling. 

“Nat,” Tony called quietly, but the spy never misses a thing. “He’s not... I can’t... Maybe you should...”

Tony could barely make out any words, but somehow, Natasha understood and she approached Peter carefully. 

“Hi, Pete,” Nat said, trying to cautiously alert Peter of her incoming presence. 

“It’s Nat. You remember me, right?” She slowly inched closer, and when he didn’t flinch or freak out when she kneeled in front of him, she continued on. 

“Your name is Peter Parker. You are 16 years old. You are Spider-Man. You live in Queens with your Aunt May, and stay over at Avengers Tower on weekends. Right now, you are on top of a rooftop in New York City. I, Nat, am kneeling in front of you,” She went ahead and softly placed her hand on his cheek. He didn’t flinch from her touch. “You feel that? That’s me. You’re right here. You’re not going anywhere.”

Whatever she did worked, because a few seconds later, Peter blinked his eyes a bit and focused on Natasha. “Nat?” Peter said, his voice coming out in a bit of a whimper. 

Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Clint all let out a relieved sigh. 

Natasha offered him a rare smile. “You got it. Hi, Peter.”

She stroke his cheek softly and tears pooled in Peter’s eyes once again. Natasha moved her hand from his face and down to hold his hand. He gladly held her hand back, gripping tightly. 

“You’re here?” Peter asked, eyes trained solely on Natasha, as if afraid to look anywhere else. 

“I’m here. We all are.”

That’s when Peter decided to look around him, and that’s when he saw all of them. When he saw them, despite how much he loved them so much, they were all men. Like Skip. And Peter couldn’t help the slight fear and discomfort that made its way to his head when he looked at them. 

Peter knew they would never hurt him, and they were nothing like Skip. But he couldn’t help it. He was scared. Nat felt like a safety blanket, and her hand was like an anchor to him. He was afraid that if he let go, he would drift away. 

Squeezing her hand a bit more tightly, he turned to look at her again. She still had her smile on her face as she looked into Peter’s eyes. 

“None of us would ever hurt you. You know that, Peter.”

It was like she could read Peter’s mind. Peter gulped slightly, and nodded his head. She squeezed his hand in reply before standing up straight. “Let’s go home, okay? It’s cold and late.”

Heading back to the quinjet, Peter was still holding on tightly to Natasha’s hand, even throughout the flight. All of the Avengers respected Peter’s space, not wanting to cause more discomfort or nerves, though they all were curious as to why Peter was acting this way. 

But no one was as curious as Tony. Ever since Peter had begun talking to Nat, he hadn’t taken his eyes of him. The way he looked at Nat as if she were the only safe thing in this world, and how he would not let go of her hand even in the slightest. The way he looked at him and the rest of the Avengers with slight fear in his eyes, and how he tried to avoid eye contact with everyone but Natasha. 

Tony did not like that one bit. 

He was glad that Natasha was able to get him back to reality and help him, and he was glad that Peter had someone he really trusted, but Tony would be lying if he said that that didn’t hurt. 

The way Peter flinched away from Tony, and the fear filled eyes when he looked at him, was something that Tony knew would come back to bite him in the ass in his nightmares. 

His kid was afraid of him. 

The thought shattered Tony, but Tony tried to focus on the fact that Peter was fine, relatively speaking, but he was alive and that’s all that matters. 

The rest were just details that they could work out. 

Once they landed, Pepper was already waiting at the front for them.

She cocked her head slightly when she saw Peter walk out with his hand holding Natasha’s, but that confusion passed quickly and was replaced with relief when she realized that Peter was alright. 

“Oh, Peter,” Pepper breathes, going towards Peter to pull him into a hug. 

Tony, Steve, Clint, and Bruce all let out small sounds of protest, knowing that Peter was incredibly... sensitive right now. 

But their protests died in their throat when Peter didn’t react in the way they expected- in tears or panic or both- he instead embraced Pepper back and buried his head in her neck. 

Pepper soothingly rubbed Peter’s back and looked at everybody with a quirk of her eyebrow, non-verbally asking everyone ‘what the hell happened?’

Tony let out a sigh, and then looked over towards Natasha. 

Natasha cleared her throat slightly and stepped towards Pepper and the boy still buried in her arms. 

“Let’s head inside now,” Natasha gently placed her hand on Peter’s shoulder. “And then let’s talk, yeah?”

Peter looked at Nat with anxiety in his eyes, and Nat shook her head. “Don’t worry, Pete. You can tell us as much as you want. We won’t force you. We just need to make sure you’re not hurt before we let you rest a bit. You can speak to just Pepper and I for now, okay? It’ll be just us.”

Tony felt his heart pang at that but he knew that that would be best for Peter. 

Peter looked visibly relieved and nodded. 

“Tony, is it alright if we take the common floor?” Natasha asked, and everybody’s attention turned towards Tony, including Peter. 

Peter looked at Tony with wide eyes, not necessarily with fear, but almost with curiosity and apprehension. 

Tony declared that he’d rather be given that look rather than the look of complete terror that he gave Tony when he first found him. That means he was getting better, right?

“Yes, yeah, of course. The guys and I’ll just... head downstairs to the training room. Birdbrain needs to work on his aim, anyway.”

“Hey!”

-

“Tony.”

Tony dropped his wrench at the sound of Natasha’s voice, and whipped his head towards her. Tony was not in the training room like he had said he’d be; he and Bruce were in the lab while Clint and Steve were in the training room. 

“What did he say? Is he alright? What happened?” Tony bombarded, and Natasha raised her arms in front of her. 

“Slow it down, Stark. He didn’t tell us anything. I think his brain’s on overload, and it’s still processing whatever it is that got him this way. The only thing we talked about was if he was hurt, which he denied, but we spent the whole conversation convincing him to let Bruce check on him. He eventually agreed, so long as me or Pepper would be there with him,” Natasha nodded towards Bruce, who nodded back, and immediately headed towards the elevators to meet Pepper and Peter. 

Tony leaned back on his seat and let out a breath. Leaning forward, Tony placed his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

Natasha placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “He’ll be alright, Tony. He’s just in shock. Those earlier reactions weren’t Peter. You know that.”

Tony signed again. “I know, I know. Uh, thanks, Nat. For being there for him. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I will always be there for Peter,” Natasha replied, and Tony looked at her with a slight smile and nodded. 

“And,” Natasha added, “I will always be there for you, too, you know. I’ll make sure Bruce let’s you know when he’s finished with Peter. Just take it easy.”

Natasha went ahead back to the elevators without giving Tony a second glance, but Tony kept his eyes trained towards her receding figure. 

He was tired. Dead tired. His brain hurt, his body hurt, and it all just hurt. 

As much as Tony wanted to relax and take it easy, he couldn’t stop thinking about Peter. 

What the hell happened to make Peter react in that way? 

Tony rubbed his temples and sighed, turning around to grab his tools and started doing what he does best- tinker. 

The least that Tony could do was add new updates to Peter’s suit- including a brand new tracker that worked even if Peter wasn’t wearing it. 

Tony tinkered away without stopping for another hour and a half, before Bruce came down to meet Tony with updates about Peter. 

“You’re sure he’s alright?”

Tony asked for the 10th time, and any other person might be annoyed, but Bruce was patient- and Tony was his friend. 

“Yeah, I’m certain. I’ve run tests, and admittedly, it was hard to check on him given that he didn’t want to talk about what happened to him, but I ran tests and physically, he’s fine. Mentally is a different story, but give him some time. Pepper and Nat were able to put Peter to sleep, and once he wakes up, we can deal with it all then. For now, it’s important that he rests.”

Tony merely nodded. “Thanks, Doc.”

Turning his back to Bruce and resuming the work he had left off, he had officially ended the conversation in a way he thought appropriate. 

Thinking otherwise, Bruce did not accept Tony’s dismissal and stayed rooted to his spot.

“I also think it’s important that you rest too, Tony.”

Tony stayed silent.

“I know how you get. We all do. When something happens, especially when you think it’s your fault even when it’s not, you shut down. You go down here and tinker in your lab without any regard for your own wellbeing.”

Silence.

Bruce let out a sigh. Tony was a stubborn man, and he knew that the only person who could really get through to him was Pepper or Peter. But he knew for this specific situation, the person he needed was Peter. 

“I already know that no matter what I say, you won’t listen. I know that once I walk out of here, you’re going to be working in here all night, without sleep or any type of sustenance. But I also know that Peter wouldn’t want you to be like this, too. He loves you, Tony. We all do.”

Tony’s working hand froze, and he just stared at his work in front of him.

With that said, Bruce left one lingering glance at Tony before exiting the lab to meet Steve and Clint who were undeniably waiting outside the door.

Once the door closed and Tony was sure that he was alone, he dropped his head to his hand and let out a breath. 

Clenching and unclenching his fist, Tony took in deep breaths. After a few seconds, he snapped his head back up and threw himself into his work.

It was going to be a long night.

-

Peter was no stranger to pain. 

Being a superhero with a suit that had no armor made sure of that. 

Besides, he’s had more than enough run ins with pain- he’s had a building dropped on him, for God’s sake. 

You’d think he’d be used to it by now.

But this- this, was a different pain.

When Peter came to, he was aware of a mild headache drumming in his head. But that pain was nothing. 

He awoke with dried tears all over his face and encrusted on his eyelids. His throat was sore. He felt as if there was a weight on his chest, specifically over his heart, as well as in his mind. It all felt like something Peter couldn’t explain. 

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and a small ounce of happiness jumped at him as his mind instantly thought of Mr. Stark. 

“Come in,” Peter announced, wincing slightly at the soreness of his throat and the croaky way his voice came out.

However, it wasn’t Tony that walked through the door- it was Pepper. 

Peter couldn’t help the slight disappointment, but mustered up a smile anyway- he loved Pepper. 

“Hi, Peter. I told FRIDAY to alert me when you woke up.” Pepper offered him her kindest smile, and strode over to sit at the end of his bed. 

“How are you feeling?” Pepper asked. It was an innocent question, but somehow it sort of woke Peter up and shook him back to reality.

Memories of the day before flashed through his head, and Peter shut his eyes in pain. He didn’t want to remember. 

“Are you alright? Do you want me to bring Bruce in here?” Pepper asked, trying to keep calm to prevent Peter from freaking out. 

‘No, I want Mr. Stark,’ Peter said in his head, but all he did was shake his head. 

“I’m fine. I’m alright. Just… remembered something,” Peter muttered. “Thank you, Pepper, for, you know, yesterday.”

Pepper smiled and placed her hand on top of Peter’s. “No problem at all. You gave us quite a scare. Especially Tony.”

Pepper spoke softly, and Peter winced again. He remembered the hurt look on Tony’s face when he flinched away from him, and he remembered feeling his stares when flying back to the tower. Peter knew he hurt Tony’s feelings, and he felt horrible. 

“I’m sorry. Is he… Is he alright? I didn’t mean to, it was just all so fresh and in the moment my brain couldn’t comprehend it, and so I reacted in a way I normally wouldn’t have, and…” Peter trailed off, but Pepper had no issue picking up the conversation. 

“Don’t be sorry, Peter. We just care about you, is all. And Tony… Well, he’s worried about you. If you’re feeling up to it, maybe you can go see him some time today. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. He understands.”

Peter was about to respond, but he guessed he was too slow, because Bruce and Nat walked into the room, interrupting him for the second time today. 

But Peter welcomed it, because it was a good sort of interruption. 

Peter felt a part of him flinch when he first looked at Bruce, but Peter reminded himself that it was Bruce- his friend and teammate. 

Natasha strode over to Peter, and placed her hand on his cheek, inspecting him. 

“Hey, little spider. You alright?” Natasha was calm and composed as always, but her warm eyes gave away her affection.

“I’m alright. Thank you, Nat.”

Nat just gave a slight quirk of her lips before nodding and backing away to let Bruce inspect Peter.

Bruce approached Peter more carefully than the two girls. “Hi, Peter. From what I heard, you’re doing okay?”

Peter nodded. He wasn’t sure if he was okay, but he knew that at the moment, he didn’t feel like complete death, so that should count for something. 

“Are you hurt anywhere? Feel any pain?” Bruce asked, and Peter shook his head.

“No, I’m okay. Throat’s a little sore and my head hurts a bit, but it’s nothing major.”

Bruce nodded his head, and crossed his arms. Peter noticed that Bruce did that frequently; it was a sort of nervous tick that he always had. 

“Your body’s still processing. I’m glad you’re alright, Peter. If you don’t mind, I want to do one more check up today- of course, after you’ve gotten dressed and eaten breakfast.”

“Sounds fine to me.”

“And uh, one more thing,” Bruce added, and that caught Peter’s attention. He cocked his head to the side slightly. “Cap and Barton may be standing in front of your door right now, waiting to see if it’s okay for them to check in on you. And they may or may not have asked me to ask you.”

Bruce shrugged his shoulders slightly, and Peter gaped at him. 

Peter knew that the team was, well, a team, but he never knew that everybody would care this much. It was all a bit... bizarre. 

“Um, yeah, of course they can come in. They’re always welcome,” Peter replied, and Bruce just smiled. 

Obviously having been listening in the whole, Steve and Clint walked in as cautiously as they could, without being too out of the ordinary. 

Peter once again felt that little flinch he felt before when seeing Bruce, but it once again went away after he reminded himself who these two were. 

The flinch was almost like a fight or flight response that couldn’t be turned off, and was something that Peter knew would get really old really soon. He didn’t want to feel like this every time he saw a man, especially when it’s men he loved and looked up to. 

“Hey there, Pete. How are you doing?”

Peter couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You guys, if I get asked that one more time, I’ll web you.”

That cracked a smile from everybody in the room, and the slight awkwardness that was in the room dispelled. 

“Glad to see you still have a sense of humor, spider,” Clint remarked, the same glint in his eye that was always there whenever he spoke to Peter. 

“Glad to see you still don’t,” Peter replied, and was almost shocked at how easily it was to talk to them again. 

Just yesterday, he was terrified of being close to them, but here he was, joking around with them in his room. 

Peter knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, and he was certain that he’d probably freak out if they touched him, but he was happy that he had people he could actually rely on. People that would hopefully make it all better. 

It. 

The smile on Peter’s face faded when he remembered why exactly he was in this place, and he felt his gaze begin to shift in and out. 

“Peter?” 

Peter snapped his eyes up, and was met with very concerned looking Avengers and Pepper. 

They had called his names a few times, but Peter was long gone. Every single one of them saw the way the smile left his face and a haunted expression replaced it, and his eyes glazed over almost immediately. 

“Huh? Oh, sorry guys, I just sorta... blanked out, a bit,” Peter weakly offered, suddenly tired by all of the socializing he was doing. 

They seemed to understand because they all gathered themselves and readied to walk out the door to leave Peter alone. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and freshen up, Peter. We’ll get out of your hair, but if you need us, do not hesitate to tell any of us, understood?” Steve was using his “Captain America” voice, and Peter knew to always listen when he used that voice. 

“Understood,” Peter replied, and Steve smiled. 

“We’ll see you in a bit, okay, Peter? We’ll leave breakfast out for you. And don’t forget to see Bruce for your check up when you’re ready,” Pepper reminded, ever the mom out of all of them, and pat Peter’s head gently before joining the Avengers as they took their leave. 

Once the door shut, Peter let his shoulders slump and his head hang. 

Peter felt numb. 

Maybe it was because he might’ve cried and screamed it all out the day before, but Peter had never felt this numb in his life. Not even when Ben died. 

It was disconcerting. 

Letting out what might have been his hundredth sigh in the past few days, Peter forced himself to get up and get ready. 

In spite of what happened, or more specifically, what he remembered, Peter didn’t want this to control his life. He didn’t want to be any more of an outsider than he already was. He didn’t want to give Skip more power than he already had. 

So Peter decided, he was going to fight this. He was going to fight to still be as himself as he could be, and to still be the Peter Parker that aunt May and the Avengers knew and loved. He was going to try. 

But still, Peter felt disgusted with himself. He couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, and scrubbed his body so hard in the shower that he knew he was bright red when he got out. 

It was all so conflicting. Peter didn’t know how to place what he was feeling. He was determined, numb, angry, sad, tired, disgusted, afraid, and confused all at the same time. 

It was a pain, a different kind of pain, that Peter never felt before until now. 

It wasn’t the sort of pain that bled or bruised; it was the sort of pain that only came to be when someone would die, and then be reborn as someone new. 

Peter knew that the Peter before this all happened was dead. And he wasn’t coming back. 

The Peter now was someone different. He was still parts of the Peter before, but not entirely. Peter didn’t know what to expect. 

The only thing he did know, as he turned his doorknob and left his room, was that it was going to be a long road ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was harsh. This chapter’s a bit harsh. 
> 
> Let me admit it: this whole story’s a bit harsh! Whoops! 
> 
> But life is pretty damn harsh, and what Peter is experiencing is real and difficult. 
> 
> From this point onward, Peter is going to be on a journey of healing. It won’t always be pretty, it won’t always be ugly, but it will always be valid. 
> 
> I hope you’re all taking care of yourselves. x


	4. Better days

Peter was tired.  

The common room was pretty much cleared, which was deliberate, because the Avengers all wanted to give Peter space. 

Peter wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted space. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he didn’t not want space. 

All he knew was that he was tired. 

Luckily, he already had his check up with Bruce, who reaffirmed that everything was going well enough for Peter. 

That led Peter to wander around the common room, and he soon found himself sitting on the floor looking out of the tall window towards the expansive city. 

He felt sort of like a wandering ghost. He knew he wasn’t entirely in his body- it felt like his soul was detached and it was just floating eerily around him. His mind was blank, and he couldn’t stop his gaze from going in and out. 

He felt so out of it. 

Even looking out at the city, with the most gorgeous 360 views (courtesy of Mr. Stark, of course) that normally made Peter feel a rush of happiness and adrenaline, now just made Peter feel more alone. 

He was so far away. Being this high up made everybody walking down in the streets look like teeny tiny ants, and Peter felt like he’d have to cross worlds to get to them. 

He was alone, drifting off in his tower, locked away by his own mind. 

‘I feel so numb,’ Peter thought to himself, leading him to clench his fists so hard that he felt it draw blood. 

 “Come on, Spider-Man,” Peter chanted in a quiet mumble. “You have to fight this. Come on.”

Peter squeezed and clenched, so hard to the point that he felt his hand throbbing, but he still couldn’t feel the pain. He was still numb. 

Exasperated, Peter leaned forward and rested his forehead against the glass, shutting his eyes...

  

_Backing up into the couch, Peter felt his chest begin to heave._

 

_He could feel the magazines that Skip had shown him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want anything to do with those magazines._

 

_Normally, when he read magazines that Uncle Ben and Aunt May would give him, they were always about superheroes or celebrities, never about this._

 

_Peter’s heard about sex before, sure- he heard some kids from school talk about how they had walked in on their parents doing it, and curious little Peter went on home and asked Aunt May about it._

 

_That, of course, led to stuttering and paleness on her end, before ultimately shooing Peter away because May was very busy with cleaning._

 

_From brief overheard conversations, Peter had a basic grasp on what sex was, but it was never explicitly explored, and Peter didn’t mind it. He was still young, after all, and he deemed sex to be an “adult” thing- and adult things were very rarely interesting._

 

_But those magazines Skip forced him to look at made Peter sick. He didn’t know what those people were doing- or why. He didn’t understand any of it, his discomfort rising more and more._

 

_He decided that he didn’t like adult things._

 

_While Peter looked at the magazine with tear-filled eyes, Skip gradually moved closer and closer to Peter until the magazine was discarded and Peter was backed up onto the end of the couch._

 

_“Come on, Einstein! Let’s conduct a little experiment of our own! Let’s see if we can touch each other like the people in that magazine!”_

 

_Skip inched closer, his eyes turning a darker shade of color, and Peter shook his head violently. Thinking about re-enacting those photos made Peter sick to his stomach._

 

_He had never wanted his Aunt and Uncle more in his life._

 

_“Please, Skip, don’t! I’ve got to go now!” Peter begged, afraid of what was coming._

 

_Skip’s hands moved forward, and stroked Peter’s arms slowly, before moving downwards. As Skip’s hands violated him further and further downwards, Peter let out a violent cry of protest._

 

_“N-no, Skip, please, can’t we just play video games or read a book?”_

 

_“Shh, Peter. This will be fun, I promise. You’ll like it,” Skip coerced, his hands moving around Peter squirming body._

 

_Peter let out a loud yelp when Skip’s hands made it to Peter’s pants, and he pulled them down._

 

_Skip immediately drew a hand up, covering Peter’s mouth and nose, making it hard for Peter to breathe._

 

_“Einstein, I like you. Don’t make any noise or else I’ll have to punish you. And I don’t want to have to do that, alright?”_

 

_Peter whimpered under Skip’s hand, struggling to breathe. Skip released his hand, and Peter wasn’t sure if it was because he thought Peter agreed or if he just didn’t care._

 

_Within a blink of an eye, Skip had taken off his pants and was fully naked in front of Peter._

 

_Peter looked up to the ceiling, counting to 100 like Uncle Ben had always taught him to do if he felt anxious and wanted to be distracted._

 

_Peter didn’t know why Skip was doing this. He thought they were friends._

 

_Is this what friends do?_

 

_Skip grabbed Peter’s hands and forced it to his length, and Skip let out a groan as he rubbed Peter’s own with his free hand._

 

_Peter let out a cry, repeatedly chanting “please” and “no” and “stop” over and over again, tears freely pouring down his face._

 

_He’s never been touched there, and it felt wrong- foreign._

 

_“This feels good, doesn’t it, Einstein?” Skip said, still rubbing Peter’s length with increasing speed, despite his cries._

 

_Peter didn’t know what he was feeling. It felt wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. It was like his body was betraying him, and he felt so many things he couldn’t explain._

 

_But he didn’t like at all. He wanted Skip to stop._

 

_Stop._

 

_Stop._

 

_STOP!_

 

Peter jumped to his feet, finally opening his tear-filled eyes. 

He was panting, and he looked around the room for Skip. 

Everything in him was screaming ‘danger,’ and he couldn’t stop his heart from beating so fast like it was going to explode. 

‘It was just a vision, Peter. It’s not happening right now. You’re in Avengers Tower. You’re safe.’ Peter mumbled to himself, his eyes cast down to his feet and his hands in his hair, tugging his strands strongly. 

Peter clenched his teeth lightly as he pulled at his hair harder and harder, drawing into himself. 

“It’s not real, it’s not real,” Peter chanted to himself. 

But he still felt like his body was on fire. He released his hands from his hair to itch and rub away at his skin, trying to make something disappear, but Peter didn’t even know what. 

He couldn’t breathe. The air around him felt like it was closing in on him, and there was a loading ringing noise that made it hard for him to keep his eyes open and focused. 

He could still hear his heart beating in his ears and feel it beating rapidly in his chest. 

The world was spinning so bad that he stumbled, he couldn’t see on what, and fell flat on his butt with his knees brought up to his chest as he hugged them, his head buried in his knees. 

He was miserable. He knew that. And there was nothing he could do until this attack passed on its own time. 

Peter stayed there on the floor, trembling and doing his best to breathe normally, for the next few minutes until his attack finally managed to slow down and Peter was brought back to Earth. 

When Peter was finally able to breathe properly, see clearly, and actually hear the soft hum of the Tower, he was exhausted and sick of being alone. 

Mr. Stark. 

Peter shot up and headed to his lab, where Peter knowingly knew that he’d be there. 

He knew Mr. Stark had been avoiding Peter and beating himself up because he felt guilty and afraid. 

But Peter didn’t care. He didn’t blame his mentor, or anyone else for that matter, besides maybe himself and Skip. But never Mr. Stark. 

And he didn’t care if Mr. Stark was busy. Peter needed someone, and he knew he needed Mr. Stark. But Peter knew that there was definitely something tremendously wrong with him at this point, because the normal Peter would care. The normal Peter would never want to disrupt Mr. Stark if he was busy. 

He was sure that there was definitely something loose in his head. 

But Mr. Stark fixed things, so maybe he could fix Peter. 

The elevator doors slid open to his mentor’s lab, which always remained accessible to Peter. He was met with a common sight: Tony Stark bent downwards, his eyes trained unwaveringly at his work below him, with countless empty coffee cups strewn over his messy desks. 

_Typical._  

Suddenly, the fast-paced adrenaline that slammed into Peter faded away when he walked in the room and saw the back of Mr. Stark. 

He felt the same flinch from before reach him, but when Tony Stark turned around to face the  direction where he had heard a noise come from and Peter was able to see his mentor’s face, the flinch immediately retreated and was replaced with relief. Safety. 

Tony on the other hand froze when he caught sight of Peter. He glanced over at the myriad empty cups of coffee, calculated the amount of sleep he didn’t get last night, and thought that maybe it all had gotten to him and he was hallucinating. 

But as he looked at the equally frozen Peter, Tony knew he wasn’t. 

“Hey kid, aren’t you, uh, supposed to be on bed rest or somethi-?” Tony began, but before he could even finish his sentence, Peter had ran across the room to him and hugged him, burying his head tightly into his chest. 

Tony’s eyes went wide, and he stood frozen for a few seconds. The last he saw or heard of Peter, he was sensitive and afraid of him, but now here he was hugging him like his life depended on it. Go figure. 

Uncertain of what exactly to say, Tony couldn’t help but ramble a bit to fill the awkward silence. “I- uh, talked to May, just so you know. I covered for you and said that you got caught up at MJ’s and didn’t realize the time. She bought it after a while. You might have to explain it more to her when you see her. Normally I wouldn’t advise lying, but I knew you’re in a bit of a rough patch, and having to explain it to May would only make it worse, so...”

When Peter let out a loud sob, Tony was broken out of his rambling reverie and looked down at his kid. 

“Pete,” Tony started, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I don’t want to do the wrong thing. Should I get Nat?”

And by doing the wrong thing, Tony meant touching Peter and making him spazz out once again. He didn’t want to experience Peter looking at Tony with those pained eyes ever again. 

However, Peter shook his head immediately into Tony’s chest, and mumbled out a “no.”

Tony was confused. 

“Are you sure? Yesterday she seemed to really help you, and I’ll admit, I’m a bit out of my element here, Pete,” Tony meant to sound nonchalant, but there was a hint of anxiety in his tone, which only increased when he tried figuring out where to put his arms since he didn’t want to touch Peter and freak him out. 

But Peter shook his head once again. “No,” Peter’s voice was once again mumbled by Tony’s shirt. “I don’t want Nat. I want you.”

Tony’s eyes widened, and he looked down at Peter once again, but all he was met with was a head of unruly hair. 

“What?” Tony’s heart was beating out of his chest. He was so afraid of hurting Peter or scaring him. And he was so confused. 

How could Peter go from being terrified of being touched by him one second to hugging him tightly like a monkey child in another?

Yup, Tony was certain that he’d never understand teenagers. 

But he was secretly glad that Peter had willingly come to him. He was almost... proud. 

Peter only continued to sob into his chest, his grip around Mr. Stark’s middle tightening with each sob. 

Tony slowly placed one arm around Peter and placed his other hand on the back of Peter’s head in a sort of fatherly embrace. 

This only made Peter sob harder, and he sincerely wondered how he was able to still cry at this point. A while ago, he was certain that his body had run out of water to cry. 

And here he was, sobbing into his mentor’s chest like a 5 year old child. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter was able to muster through his tears. 

Tony frowned and looked at Peter confusedly. “Sorry for what, kid? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I- I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to. That wasn’t me last night, I swear, I don’t want you to go and I don’t want you to distance yourself from me because I really need you right now, and I...” Peter cut himself off at the end to take in a deep breath, and also partly because he knew he was acting on pure emotion right now and might regret some of what he’s saying later. 

“That’s it? Don’t sweat it, Pete. I know you only reacted that way because something happened to make you like that, but that’s okay, because you’re going to me now instead of being alone and letting it eat you alive. You know I care about you, you know that, right? I may not be overly emotional or affectionate but I do care and I do worry, and I want you to know that you can trust me with anything.”

Tony truly felt strange, speaking out about his feelings so suddenly, but he would do anything to get the message across to Peter. 

His father never was affectionate or supportive to Tony, and only ever listened to him if it came down to school or business. Tony wanted to break that cycle of shame and if that meant him having to go out of his comfort zone every so often then so be it. 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Peter stopped crying now, and his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. 

He slowly pulled away from Mr. Stark’s chest, and he sniffles before he made eye contact with him. 

“You doing alright, kid?” Tony asked, pulling up his hand to softly grip the back of Peter’s head again. 

“I’ve had better days,” Peter shrugged and did his best to throw on a sluggish smile. 

He’s sure he failed, but Mr. Stark was kind enough not to mention it. 

The atmosphere felt silent for a while, before Peter cleared his throat and averted his eyes to what Tony was working on before being interrupted. 

“So, you were working on my suit?” 

Tony smiled a bit sadly at the obvious change of direction, but went with it nonetheless. Peter wasn’t ready to talk about it, and that was alright. Tony knew he’d be there wholeheartedly when he decided that he was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, I'm sorry!
> 
> I'm currently taking 20 units this semester for school AND working so my plate is super full, and it's hard to make time to write and do other things that I love.
> 
> Still, I wanted to make sure to post something for you guys!
> 
> Till next time, and again, please be sure to take care of yourselves :)


	5. Fake it until you make it

It had been two weeks since the incident. 

After Peter had cried onto Tony’s shoulders on that fateful Saturday, things had changed. 

All of the Avengers and Pepper seemed to be more attentive towards Peter, and he was rarely ever alone at the Tower. They tried to play it off as purely coincidental, however, Peter was no idiot. 

He knew that they all had a “super secret Avengers meeting” to discuss all things Peter- and that just so happened to conclude with a common consensus that someone had to be with him at every second. 

Peter understood their concern, and appreciated it, but he was honestly sick of it. 

They all even seemed to be going easy on Peter during training, excluding Natasha, who Peter loved the most for it, and they treated him like glass. 

The first few days after the incident, everybody was scared of setting Peter off. Sure, he was a bit sensitive to being touched, and sure, he couldn’t sit at the ends of couches anymore without panicking, but still, Peter was still the same guy! 

Right? 

Peter had created a full-proof plan to deal with this incident. 

  1. Deflect. If anyone looks at you in pity or concern, deter the conversation or crack a joke. 
  2. Smile often. This makes things less awkward and takes the heat off of you for a while. 
  3. Deny. Don’t talk about what happened, and under no circumstances, don’t think about happened. Thinking about it will only lead you to spiral. 
  4. Pretend. Pretend that you’re well-rested even if you haven’t slept in ages. Pretend that you’re full even if you barely manage to eat one meal a day. Pretend that you’re completely fine even if you feel like you’re going crazy. 
  5. Fake it until you make it. 



Okay, maybe the plan wasn’t entirely fool proof, but it was all Peter got. 

He didn’t want to be the poor kid who got raped as a kid and now everybody has to walk on eggshells around him. 

He was Spider-Man! Not some helpless victim with too much trauma to carry. He was supposed to be the one saving people, and he couldn’t afford having to add himself to that list. 

And so, Peter deflected. And smiled. And denied. And pretended. 

He faked with the hopes of making it. 

Because maybe if he faked it for long enough, the Avengers would finally lay off him and Peter could return to normal life. 

Whatever that looked like. 

“Peter Parker?”

Peter jolted, hearing his principal’s voice. 

_Damn spidey-senses haven’t exactly been on par with me lately,_ Peter thought, frustrated with himself. 

His reflexes were crap, his eyesight was gradually worsening back to how it was prior to the bite (Peter even found himself having to squint to see the board in class), his hearing was returning to that of a normal human beings, and he was so weak that he could barely climb or stick on walls. 

_Where am I again?_  Peter again thought to himself, finally bringing some life back in his body and senses as he paid attention to his surroundings. He was hunched on a desk, with his head resting on his arms. 

This had become routine in the past few weeks for Peter- he would skip class every third period to avoid Skip, and he would come to this classroom which was always empty at this time, and take that time to try and catch a mid-day snooze. It was like a win-win situation in Peter’s eyes, because he didn’t have to see Skip and he could catch up on sleep. 

His routine also consisted of skipping out on decathlon too. Peter didn’t necessarily want to, but with Skip there, he had almost no choice. And, Peter’s head hasn’t really been in the game anyways, so he likes to think that his presence would really just be more of a hinderance, so it’s a good thing that he’s not in the team anymore. 

The drawback is, Peter has to hide from them too. He can’t go home after school, because then May would know that he’s not going to decathlon, and that would just raise questions that Peter wasn’t prepared to answer. So, he felt as if he had no choice but to go patrolling. 

This wasn’t too much of an issue, obviously with Peter being Spider-Man. The issue that remained was the fact that Peter couldn’t use his suit. As amazing and helpful as that suit was, it was directly linked to Tony and Tony received updates whenever Peter put on the suit, and Tony didn’t need to know that Peter was skipping out on decathlon too. 

After home-coming, Peter promised Mr. Stark that he would never hack into any of Mr. Stark’s suits ever again, and Peter wasn’t about to break that promise. 

That’s what his old suit was for. 

Although the old suit was by no means more adept and advanced than his regular suit, Peter didn’t really have a choice. 

He’s been running out of options lately. 

Speaking about options…

“Peter, I know that’s you. I’ll give you two choices here: either you stop pretending that you don’t hear me or I can go ahead and call your aunt and have her come down here. Your choice.”

_Oh shit_ , Peter thought and immediately uncurled himself away from the desk. 

“Principal Morita! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t deliberately trying to ignore you, I was just really zoned out…” Peter’s explanation faded as he took in Morita’s stern gaze with his arms crossed over his chest, and he realized the predicament he was in.

Sleeping in an empty classroom while he was supposed to be in third period definitely did not look good.

“Uh-huh. My office now.” Not leaving any space for refusal, Principal Morita turned around and headed out the door, undoubtedly heading towards his office.

Peter sighed and threw his bag across his shoulder, strolling behind his principal.

This wouldn’t be a fun conversation. 

Peter unknowingly slumped in the seat in front of Morita’s desk, somehow feeling ashamed and embarrassed. Peter was supposed to be a model student, and here he was, about to be told off by the principal for the second time.

The office was silent for a brief few moments, with Morita looking at Peter and Peter looking everywhere but at the man in front of him. 

“Peter,” Principal Morita started, and Peter already flinched, mentally preparing for a scolding. But Morita had other things in mind.

“Is everything okay with you? Anything going on at home, or even at school?” 

Peter gaped at the figure in front of him, surprised at the concern in his voice. 

In spite of the young teen’s silence, Morita elaborated some more. “I don’t mean to pry. But I’ve told you before that you’re a smart, good kid, and I don’t think you’d purposely be missing the same class for two weeks now, even if you have perfect attendance in all your other classes.”

Peter winced at that, not knowing that anyone had noticed his habits recently. 

Morita leaned forward slightly, straightening his posture.

“You’ve been missing out on decathlon practice as well. I won’t lie and say that this is not concerning. Peter, if there’s something going on with you that’s inhibiting you from succeeding at school, then I would prefer that you tell me so I can help you. Because I’ll be honest with you, it can’t keep going on like this.”

The more that Principal Morita spoke, the more anxious Peter grew. Morita was getting way too close, and Peter knew he had to do something.

_#1 on the plan, Peter thought, Deflect._

“You’re right, Principal Morita,” Peter spoke, doing his best to sound defeated (which wasn’t very hard). “Things at home are just a little tough right now, and it’s hard to prioritize school. I just haven’t been sleeping much lately, because I’ve been trying to help aunt May out with money to help us get by, and I guess I might be overdoing it because I crash hard in the middle of the day.”

Peter told himself that it was only a partial lie, but saying it still left a nasty taste on the tip of his tongue.

Morita regarded Peter for a few seconds, before ultimately deciding to believe Peter and he visibly relaxed in his seat. 

This made Peter relax too and internally cheer in his head. Success. 

“That’s tough, Peter. I’m sorry things are so tough at home. But I’m glad to say that you have a lot of options here. You realize that we have a lot of programs here that might help you? There are food pantries, to help with food so maybe your aunt doesn’t have to stress about that, since food can be expensive…”

Principal Morita dove into the conversation of the many options that Peter had at his access, and Peter only half-listened.

Even if this conversation didn’t really apply to him at this point and he knew he had barely gotten off the hook, he couldn’t help but admit that it was a bit fun to sit here with his principal and pretend that he still had options. Pretend that he still had a choice. Pretend that he still had control over his life.

 

-

 

“He got called into his principal’s office today.”

Looking particularly domestic at this moment, the Avengers were all splayed throughout the couch and floor watching a documentary on the TV. 

Steve was at the end of the couch, sitting casually against the cushion. Next to him was Tony, who was completely slumped against the couch, but was actively engaged in a conversation about the documentary with the super soldier next to him. Steve chuckled softly at something Tony had said, and Tony grinned to himself. 

Natasha was at the other end of the couch, laying with her head on the armrest and had her legs laying lazily on Tony’s lap. She was staring intently at the TV, but was seemingly subconsciously combing her hands through Bruce’s hair, who was on the floor in front of her, choosing to instead lean against the couch while he typed away on the laptop in front of him. 

But when Clint walked in the room, everybody’s actions ceased, and all heads turned to the archer. 

“He? Who’s he?” Steve asked, his eyebrows already furrowing. 

“Who else? Peter.”

There was a dead silence. 

Until,

“You’re  _spying_  on Peter?!” Tony yelled, shifting his posture to sit more upwards. “How has he not noticed you stalking him? His senses could probably pick up me sneezing all the way from his apartment.” 

That was an overreaction, but everybody knew what he meant. Everyone was familiar with Peter’s acute spider senses- it was always an asset on the field but also made its everyday appearance when Peter was here at the Tower.

“That’s the thing; I’ve been following him to and around school now since the incident happened, and he hasn’t noticed.”

There was more brief silence. Everyone knew that if Peter hadn’t noticed Clint in those two weeks, then something had to be wrong. Normally, Peter’s senses were always on alert, and there was barely a thing he’d missed. 

“And before you get all ‘ _Barton, that’s an invasion of privacy_ ,’” Clint continued on, his voice shifting to a mock deeper voice (Tony had fake coughed “Steve,” which had earned an eye roll from the captain). “I’ve been doing it because there’s obviously something going on with the kid and he won’t tell us. I know Stark wants him to come to us first, but what if it’s really bad? What do we do then? So I figured I’d follow him a bit, see what happens, and also keep an eye out for him. And you know, I was right to be concerned.”

Clint dramatically scooted Natasha’s legs off the couch and sat in its space next to Tony and Nat, but not before Nat gave him a good kick to the groin for it. 

“Okay, ow,” Clint pointed out. “No need to be violent.”

“Uh, hello,” Tony interjected, waving his hand in the air. “Can we get back on topic please? What did you see during your stalk-scapade?”

The documentary long forgotten, everybody shifted towards Clint, wanting to hear all that they could about the youngest almost-member of the Avengers. 

“Well, it’s pretty... uneventful. And I think that’s part of the issue. Because we all know Peter, and we know he’s usually a pretty enthusiastic kid. But at school, he’s different. He’s almost always alone now, besides that one kid he always hangs out with, but even when he’s with him, it seems sort of strained. And, he skips third period everyday to go to this empty classroom to put his head down. 

From someone else’s point of view, it might look like he’s napping, but I can tell from his breathing patterns and posture that he’s wide awake. And he just... sits there, for a whole hour, motionless. Some days, he sits there, staring at the wall or ceiling the entire hour. I never see the kid eat or drink anything, even during his lunch break. Plus, he’s also been skipping out on decathlon practice. And today he got busted by his principal, and had to go to his office. I wasn’t able to hear what they were saying, but from the looks of it, it didn’t seem too great.”

“That doesn’t sound like Peter at all,” Tony said, concern written all over his face. 

_Someone should make this a drinking game_ , Tony thought.  _Take a shot every time I worry about Peter. They’d black out with no problem._

“Exactly. And, uh, there’s a bit more. This part, you probably won’t like,” Clint gestured to Tony. 

_Just great_. 

“He’s been going out as Spider-Man at the time he’s supposed to be in decathlon practice. Not in his regular suit, but in his old, weird, pajama looking suit. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know why. And lemme tell you, he looks tired, and his moves are sloppy. There were so many times that I almost jumped in and blew my cover because I was afraid his body couldn’t handle it.”

Tony groaned, frustrated, and snatched his phone to begin typing away. 

“That stupid kid,” Tony murmured, viciously typing on the phone now. 

“Stupid-smart kid, really, because he’s using his old suit instead of his regular suit during those hours because he knows I get alerts when he uses the suit, and he doesn’t want me to know that something’s up. And if I’m correct and on schedule, then I’d be right in assuming that Peter’s patrolling now in his regular suit because this is his usual time...”

Tony paused as he looked on his phone, and clapped then snapped his fingers. “Gotcha. He’s patrolling. That kid, I swear, will be the death of me.”

Tony averted his gaze from his phone to the wall ahead of him. “Hey, FRI, can you do me a favor and have Karen alert Peter and tell him that I need him at the Tower as soon as possible?”

“Mr. Parker has been alerted.” The robotic voice shot through the air. 

“Thanks, FRIDAY.”

“Tony, what are you doing?” Natasha asked, her gaze burning into Tony’s. “What happened to ‘letting him come to us’ first?”

“Screw that. Something’s up, and it’s hurting him. I can’t let him continue on like this, even if he doesn’t want to face it.”

Nobody objected to that, silently thankful that Tony finally lost his patience. They all knew that Tony was trying to do the right thing by waiting for Peter to come to them at his own pace, but as time went on, it became apparent that Peter was only causing more harm to himself- as much as he acted like everything was fine. 

“Mr. Parker is en route to the Tower, boss. He should be here in about 2 minutes.” FRIDAY informed, and everybody besides Tony took that as their cue to get up. 

“We’ll go ahead and get dinner. I don’t know what, but we’ll figure it out while we’re out,” Bruce said, with everybody agreeing. 

“Let us know how it goes,” Steve reminded, and was met with a loud  _duh_  as he walked the team to the elevator. 

“Good luck,  _irondad_ ,” Clint slipped, putting more emphasis on his nickname for the mechanic, earning laughter from his fellow Avengers and the middle finger from Tony. 

When the elevator door closed, Tony headed back to the common room, and laid against the kitchen counter, waiting for Peter to come. 

Meanwhile, a few blocks away, a particular superhero vigilante was wracking in nerves. 

He swung from building to building, trying to release some of those nerves before he went in the Tower. 

Tony rarely ever made Peter come in “as soon as possible,” as Karen’s voice had stated it, and even though Peter didn’t hear him directly, he knew it was something to worry about. Why else would he have to come in so suddenly?

Peter landed and came through the particular entrance that Mr. Stark had built in specifically for the convenience of Spider-Man. 

He took off his mask and let out a breath before walking inside into the common room. 

The first thing Peter noticed was that it was dark and empty, which struck him as odd, because he knew that usually all the Avengers would be in the common room at this point of time, watching a movie or just basking in each other’s presence. 

_Is everyone alright?_  Peter thought to himself, panic rising up his throat. He couldn’t lose them, not after- 

“Before you start thinking the worst and panicking, everyone’s alright,” Mr. Stark’s voice broke through the darkness, and Peter swiveled his head to see the man leaning over the kitchen counter, and relief immediately washed over him. “The team’s just getting dinner. I told them to go on without me.”

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter tried to keep his tone light, and seem as at ease as possible. Mr. Stark had a knack for seeing right through Peter, and that was something Peter desperately wanted to avoid. 

“Hey, Peter,” The man replied, and Peter internally winced at the cold use of his actual name- not kid, spiderling, Pete, or any other nickname he usually uses. “I’m not going to waste time and cut around the bush, I’ll get straight to the point. What’s going on with you?”

Twice in one day? Peter must be really off his A-game. 

But it’s okay, it’s alright, Peter has his plan. And that plan hasn’t failed him yet. 

_Number 1 and 2 on the plan: Deflect and Smile often._

And so, Peter plastered on a carefree smile as he detailed his day, “Well, today I chased after this dude who I thought stole a woman’s purse, but it turned out that it was his wife’s purse and he was running because she forgot it at the restaurant and she made him get it quickly since they had a movie in 10 minutes. And I apologized like 60 times, because it was wrong of me to assume on the firsthand and on the secondhand because I probably made them even more late for their movie, and I offered to pay for their tickets, but they said-“

“Damn it, Peter,” Mr. Stark’s sharp voice cut through Peter’s ramble, and Peter immediately fell silent. “Cut the bullshit. Feeding me those witty stories of your adventures as Spider-Man won’t work anymore. I wanted to be patient and I wanted you to come to me, but obviously, that’s not happening.”

He paused, awaiting to see if Peter would respond, but the young boy was struck frozen and wide-eyed, uncertain of what to do. 

_Number 3: Deny._

“Mr. Stark, it’s nothing. Really. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to say-“

“How about you tell me the truth?” Mr. Stark cut him off, and it was apparent that he was growing frustrated. 

Tony separated himself from the kitchen counter and walked towards Peter. 

“For once, will you please tell me the damn truth, Peter? Please? You can’t tell me that nothing is going on. How about that day where you went missing and I found you on some random rooftop, and you were terrified of everybody? Huh?”

_Number 4: Pretend. Come on Peter, just pretend..._

Peter’s voice was little now, his resolve fading. He shook his head slightly. “That was-“

But Tony cut him off again. 

“And what about the way that you flinch every time someone touches you? Or the way you look for an exit in every room you walk into? Or the way you play with your food, and barely consume any of it? Or the way that you always seem tired now, like your body has run out of fuel? You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t notice that you’ve been skipping class and decathlon for some reason? You really think that low of me to believe that I wouldn’t notice or care?” 

Mr. Stark was in front of Peter now, his voice both domineering and gentle at the same time. Peter stood frozen, his watery eyes averted away from his mentor. He couldn’t bear to look at him. 

“I-it’s not that, Mr. Stark. I-I’m okay, it’s nothing I can’t handle, I can deal with it.”

Peter couldn’t stop his voice from stammering. He felt like he was being cut open and put on display for the whole world to see, or in reality, for Mr. Stark to see and examine. He knew his “fool proof” plan was failing. 

He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to run, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t move under his idol’s stares.

“But you know what, kid,” Tony’s voice was much gentler this time, but Peter merely sniffed and still refused to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to deal with it on your own. You have a whole team of Avengers who care and worry for you, and we want to help you. We want to be there for you. Because, kid, it hurts us to see you like this- pretending that you’re okay when you’re far from it. 

It’s okay not to be okay sometimes, especially when you’re a superhero and consistently putting your life out on the line all the time. And throw in personal and family issues,” Tony let out a low whistle. “That’s more than any normal human being can handle. That’s the thing, Pete, you handle so much. I can’t imagine having been Iron-Man when I was your age, alongside all the other traumas I had at the time. That is a feat within itself. Which is why, you need to let us help you. Please let us help you. Let me help you.”

Peter didn’t burst into tears, admitting defeat, and throw himself into his mentor’s arms like some might assume. 

He sniffed once more, still staring away from Tony, but tears were glistening in his eyes and his whole body shook in an attempt to keep those tears from falling. 

“Do we have to play a guessing game? Ah man, I’m pretty bad at those but I’ll try,” Tony rubbed his hands together as if preparing to do a difficult physical task. 

“Is it... family problems that’s bothering you?” Tony tried, but Peter didn’t move a muscle. 

“How about... school? Are you still being bullied?”

Peter pursed his lips a little bit, but still didn’t indicate any signs of truth. 

“Finance? Physical illness? Relationship trouble? Puberty?”

Peter quirked a tiny smile at the last suggestion, which made Tony smile widely. 

_Hey, at least he gave me something_ , Tony thought. 

“Okay, so not school or family or puberty... It’s your own mental health, yes?” Tony guessed, and by the way that Peter stiffened, he knew he guessed correct. 

“Alright. We can work with that. So, it’s your mental health, you’ve been missing sleep, losing your appetite, skipping class...”

At this point Tony seemed to be talking more to himself now more than Peter. He muttered some more about his behavior and symptoms, and Peter knew that he would eventually figure it out, because honestly, it’s Tony Stark we’re talking about here. 

And so, without thinking because he knew if he thought about it he wouldn’t do it, Peter blurted out, “I was raped.”

Just three words, and Peter’s tongue felt like sandpaper. Saying it out loud was admitting its truth, and Peter felt like crying all over again. 

His admittance was both painful and cathartic in a way, not having to hide behind his lies, but it left him exposed like a nerve. 

There was silence for a long while. Tony immediately stopped his muttered tangent and gaped at his kid,  _kid_ , in front of him. 

Peter had to count to 5 before he allowed himself to finally turn his head and look at Tony, and when he did, both of their resolves crumbled. 

Peter looked into the eyes of his idol, mentor, and father-figure, and saw nothing but care, pain, and concern shadowed in just his eyes. In this moment he felt overwhelmed with fear, pain, but also immense safety and comfort. It was confusing.

Tony looked into the tired, pained eyes of his mentee, team-mate, and most importantly, son, and all those years of hiding his emotions were thrown away in those few seconds. He was overwhelmed with pain and concern for his kid, and wanted nothing more than to protect him from everything and everyone. 

It all made sense to him now. The fear of being touched by men, the denial, the dissociation; it all made sense now. And suddenly, Tony felt a wave of murderous intent towards the person who did this to his kid, but when Peter shifted awkwardly, it disappeared just as suddenly as it came, and Tony went forward, wanting to comfort him. 

“Peter...” Tony spread his arms in the offering of a hug, not wanting to touch Peter without his consent even if it was to give him a hug. He wanted to give Peter the choice. 

Peter looked at the man in front of him for a few seconds, before slowly enveloping himself into his arms. 

The pair remained like that for far longer than any of them would admit, basking in the soothing presence of one another- Peter basking in the comfort that Mr. Stark always gave him, and Tony basking in the physical reminder that Peter was here, and he was okay. 

Tony realized that this is probably what it felt like to be a parent: this tremendous desire to keep their kid safe from harm. He felt ready to take on thousands of alien armies right then and there if it meant keeping Peter safe. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Peter,” Tony spoke in a whisper, not wanting to start with an “I’m sorry” because he knew Peter probably didn’t want pity. And that was enough to make tears fill Peter’s eyes once more. 

“I haven’t even told you the whole story yet,” Peter laughed incredulously through tears, feeling incredibly thankful for the man holding on to him. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Tony spoke in a normal volume this time. “It wasn’t your fault. The only person at fault is the inhumane person who did this to you. And I assure you, they will get what’s coming to them, but I need you to understand that it wasn’t your fault. No way in hell could it ever be your fault.”

Tony’s adamance made Peter hug him tighter, the tears still streaming down his face. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you,” Peter apologized quietly. “There’s more that I have to tell you, I know, but can we just... stay like this for a while?”

Tony looked down at Peter and smiled softly. He adjusted himself to make their position more comfortable and let out a content sigh, silently saying “yes” to Peter’s proposed question. 

Peter let out his own sigh, closing his eyes as he listened to the beat of Mr. Stark’s heart. 

For the first time in two weeks, Peter felt content. 

_Number 5: Fake it until you make it._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was super cathartic for me to write.
> 
> I've had possibly the worst breakdown of the year today, but writing this chapter really helped me out. Even if it was a distraction from reality, it's gladly accepted because it made me feel at ease.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> I wish I had the Avengers care for me like they care for Peter!
> 
> Again, I hope you're all taking care of yourselves. x


	6. Time heals all wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you for all of your comments. This story is a very cathartic yet very tolling one to write, and your sweet comments always make it a little bit easier and a little bit sweeter. 
> 
> Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy! x

They say that time heals all wounds.

Peter used to think so too.

Until he got raped.

Until he got raped, made himself forget about it, and rediscovered it years later, and his wounds still hadn’t healed with time.

And his wounds were very much infected.

Peter tossed in his bed and threw a glance at the clock hanging over his bed.

_7_ : _32PM_.

Letting out a sigh, Peter laid flat on his back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

After Peter confessed to Mr. Stark and they had their little moment, Peter told Mr. Stark everything.

Literally. 

It was like once the gates opened, there was no closing it.

He told his mentor all about Skip, and how he couldn’t remember him, how he had a weird feeling about him at first, and everything after that. He told him all about how he couldn’t sleep or eat because of everything, and how he tried so hard to just push it aside. 

But he couldn’t do it.

Because the wounds were infected. And Peter had just tried to cover them up with band-aids.

Mr. Stark listened to Peter without interruption, regardless of the fire he felt enrage within him at hearing how much pain this Skip guy was causing Peter.

But Tony knew that anger and rage wasn’t what Peter needed right now; he needed safety and comfort. And Tony would provide him that in the best way he could.

So, he kept quiet until Peter couldn’t go on anymore, and enveloped Peter in a hug.

A few more words and comforting hugs later, Tony had basically demanded that Peter go to his room to take a nap, and that he’d wake him up when the rest of the Avengers came back with dinner.

Peter was pretty certain that Steve, Nat, Bruce, and Clint were all back already, certainly being filled in by Mr. Stark.

Peter gave Mr. Stark the consent to tell them, of course, because they would’ve found out anyway. Plus Peter was tired of hiding.

He just didn’t have the courage to tell them himself. Telling one person was already more than Peter thought he could handle.

Letting out a deep breath, Peter got back up and headed to his bathroom to splash water on his face.

While it was great and all that Peter did the right thing by telling an adult he trusted, that didn’t really erase the pain and trauma.

But Peter felt great. Really.

He was glad he finally was truthful with himself. And he was relieved that he had the support of Mr. Stark and hopefully the rest of the Avengers. 

But talking about it exhausted Peter in a way he couldn’t describe. Letting everything out and talking through it left him more tired than a whole day of patrolling without end- and trust Peter when he says that he’s done it before and it was no easy feat.

Because after years of not knowing he was raped, to suddenly being catapulted into this life where he did in fact get raped and going through a whole denial process for the second time, and then having to go through this new stage of acceptance towards it?

It was tremendously mentally tolling.

And Peter was trying to be patient. He was trying to be positive. He was trying his best to not think so guiltily and hatefully towards himself.

He was trying not to go down that road of shame, where he blamed himself incessantly and hated the world for allowing this to happen to him. He was trying not to belittle himself for reacting so strongly to this trauma. He was trying not to believe that he was less of a hero because of this.

Even though everything in him mutely screamed otherwise.

“Peter?”

Mr. Stark’s voice rang throughout the room, and Peter’s head whipped towards the man, who was standing in the doorway. 

When Peter came out of the bathroom, Mr. Stark offered the teen a smile. “Hey, kid. You hungry?”

Peter wasn’t. How could he be after a day like this?

But the look in Mr. Stark’s eyes as he looked at Peter seemed to say ‘ _I_ _don’t_ _care_ _if_ _you_ _are_ _or_ _aren’t_ , _you’re_ _eating_ _something_ _even_ _if_ _I_ _have_ _to_ _force_ _it_ _down_ _your_ _throat_ ,’ and Peter knew not to argue. It’s all about picking your battles.

“Sure, Mr. Stark. Thanks.”

Tony, pleased with the answer, clapped his right hand on Peter’s left, and ushered the boy out of his room and towards the kitchen. 

As they walked through the hallway, Peter gradually began to hear the voices and clatter of the Avengers in the kitchen, and something in him froze a bit at that, afraid of having to face more people who knew about what happened. 

What if they thought he was overreacting? Even worse, what if they thought it was Peter’s fault?

Tony must have noticed, because he leaned a bit closer and quietly said, “I told them. They... they’re just worried about you, Pete. They’re angry you have to go through this to begin with, but nobody thinks less of you and nobody blames you.”

Peter weakly nodded and offered a hushed “thanks” to his mentor, and Tony just gave him a pat on the back of his shoulder before he went ahead into the kitchen with the Avengers, Peter trailing behind, doing his best to act as he normally would. 

“Eating already without the two most important members of the team? Rude,” Tony commented light-heartedly, taking his usual seat at the dining table.

Peter slipped into his usual seat, which was to the left of Mr. Stark and on the right of Steve.

Everybody at the table was engaged in comfortable, light banter while they ate the Chinese food they brought home and spread throughout the table for easy access.

“You mean Peter and Thor? Sorry, Pete, we were hungry. And, well, Thor’s in space, so there’s no point in waiting for him,” Clint replied sassily, as per usual.

Everybody knew Clint and Tony were the two witty divas of the group.

Tony put his right hand over his heart and gasped, mocking offense at his teammate’s comment. “You wound me, Legolas.”

The whole team rolled their eyes good-naturedly at the pair. They could always count on those two for a good laugh... or eye roll.

“Hey Peter, could you pass me the fried rice please?” Bruce asked, and Peter immediately handed over the carton, earning a thanks from the scientist.

The rest of the dinner went by normally, with everybody enjoying their food and typical banter that always came to be when the Avengers were together.

But everybody’s heads seemed to be somewhere else, like they were purposely trying to keep up the normality of it all.

Every so often, everyone would throw Peter side glances, as if trying to analyze him or see him in a new light. After their glance, they would always either frown slightly to themselves or try to pretend they weren’t looking at him in the first place.

Peter knew it was unquestionably because of the whole thing with Skip, and they undeniably wanted to talk about it, but they wanted to be considerate and let Peter enjoy his dinner.

But Peter wasn’t stupid, and he was tired of keeping up charades. They were going to have to talk about it later, so why not just get it over with right now?

With a courage that Peter never knew he withheld without the Spider-Man suit, he set his fork down to his plate, looked at everyone and said, “So, this is nice and all, but I know you all are dying to talk to me about what happened with Skip, so, go for it.”

All conversation at the table paused, and everybody turned to Peter. 

The young boy had his head held high, as if trying to pass the impression that he had it all together. He couldn’t fool his family.

They could see his swollen, red eyes that came from crying too much. They could see his dark eye bags from all those days of insomnia, they could see his pale skin, and they could see him trying to hold it all together.

The Avengers weren’t stupid either.

“Peter…” Steve started, uncertain of where to even begin. The super soldier had a whole lot of questions and thoughts, of course, but Peter was just a kid. How could he approach this sort of situation with a kid?

Steve looked at the rest of his teammates, gaging to see if they wanted to take the lead, but to no avail. Tony was observing them curiously, eating slowly, knowing that he already had his turn for conversation. Bruce, ever the quiet one, was looking slightly discomforted, his eyes flicking back and forth from Peter to everybody else at the table, waiting to see who would say something.

Clint was looking at Steve, as if trying to have a silent conversation with him through his head. Next to him, Natasha was silent, but she merely gazed at Peter, as if observing him under a microscope.

Steve cleared his throat a bit, knowing he’d have to take the lead on this. He was captain after all.

“How are you, Peter?”

Short and simple.

It was good enough. Peter could take reins of the conversation and steer it away somewhere else if he felt uncomfortable.

“Oh, you know, just had my whole world flipped upside down, no biggie.”

Peter shrugged, taking a bite of his orange chicken.

Everybody was taken aback for a second, and Peter eyed all of them, before realizing that his self-deprecating Gen Z humor came out, and the rest of the Avengers don’t understand that kind of humor. (Peter likes to say that it’s a skill).

Peter cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “I mean, I’m doing alright. Fine. Great. I mean, uh, I’m trying?”

Towards the end of his sentence, Peter’s tone switched to one that made it sound like he was asking a question, and everybody softened at that.

“And I’m proud of you for that. Peter, we all just wanted to thank you for allowing us all to know and help you. What you went through is horrendous, and you shouldn’t have had to go through it. I’m glad you told Tony, and as an extension, us. We will help you get through this, so any time you need anything, you let us know, alright? I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we would all willingly drop whatever we’re doing to be there for you.”

Peter looked at Steve’s kind eyes while he spoke, who seemed to have the kindest eyes he’s ever seen. His eyes strayed to the rest of the Avengers, who nodded along to everything he was saying. He then glanced over at Mr. Stark, who gave Peter a supportive smile all throughout.

Peter felt a lump form in his throat, and he struggled to suppress it.

It was all so much. Did he really deserve all this support from everyone? 

“You are not less of a hero because this affects you so much,” Nat spoke this time, placing her hand on top of his. She always seemed to read his mind. “You are even more of a hero for living in spite of it. These things... it gets to you. They don’t ever leave. It will stay with you the rest of your life, like a ghost. But… you can live with it. You can become stronger because of it. You can still be Peter. And you will. I’ll help you.”

Everybody stared wide-eyed at Natasha, who herself seemed to slightly choke up while speaking to Peter. Everybody knew she was speaking from her own heart and own experience as she talked to Peter, and even Peter who didn’t know much about Nat’s early life, could tell by her voice and her eyes that she understood Peter completely.

Peter gave Nat’s hand a squeeze, and gave her a smile with teary eyes. He wanted to tell her how thankful he was for her honesty and her care, Hell, he wanted to thank all of them, but his throat felt so tight that he couldn’t manage to get any words out.

They all seemed to understand, though, because they all looked at Peter with sad yet supportive smiles on their faces. 

Bruce let out a little cough, not wanting to completely disturb the moment so intrusively, but felt like he needed to pitch in too. “You are not alone in this, Peter. You don’t have to be. All of us, we each have our own issues and traumas that are too deeply rooted to ever go away as much as we’d like it to, and it can be a real pain. It’s not easy. But it becomes bearable because we help take the weight off of one another. We’re a team and a family, and we don’t let each other go about things alone. And we’re not about to start with you.”

Everybody let out a laugh at Bruce’s last sentence, and Peter felt a tear slip out of his right eye as his eyes crinkled with the spread of his grin. 

As the laughter died down, everyone humorously looked towards Clint, who threw his hands in the air. 

“Oh so it’s my turn now to say something lovey and mushy? Alright, well, uh, kid, you know I got your back. I don’t ever like seeing you sad or in pain, so if you need anything, always feel free to cry on Uncle Clint’s shoulder,” Clint pat his shoulder. “And, um, I’m not good at speeches like everybody else here, but you know I love you, Pete! And stop smiling like that!” Seeing Peter’s cheesy grin at Clint’s attempt to be affectionate, Clint flung a speck of rice at the young boy.

Peter let out a laugh, and he felt something warm spread throughout his stomach.

Even though there were tears falling down his face, and everybody had long since abandoned their food and were now either throwing small bits of food at each other or yelling at the people who were making the mess, Peter realized that if he had these guys by his side, the future might not be so bleak.

Because maybe time doesn’t heal all wounds. Maybe it’s what you do with that time that does.

 

-

 

“I want to kill the guy,” Tony’s voice bounced off the walls as he paced the common room, pressing and swiping random buttons on his ‘crazy smart Stark tech that floats all around the room’ as Clint calls it.

Not even a minute after they bid their goodbyes to Peter and made sure he was safely in Happy’s car, everything in Tony had shifted. While Peter was here, he was all smiles and hugs and comfort, but as soon as Peter left, Tony was able to act on what he was feeling: anger.

“Aha!” Tony exclaimed. “Got him. Skip Wescott.”

Tony’s eyes were wide, almost glazed over, and his fingers were moving fast as he typed and swiped and read all the information FRIDAY could find on the boy.

“Tony,” Steve cautiously called out to the man. Everybody knew he was very clearly angry- they knew it from the moment he had told them what Skip did to Peter those years ago.

They were all angry- but Tony was murderous. He was seeing all red, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. 

“Tony,” Bruce tried this time, knowing that as enraged as Tony was, he couldn’t just go kill a minor.

All men were standing around near Tony at a good distance, each of them trying to break Tony out of his ballistic haze.

However, Nat was sitting comfortably on the couch, watching the scene unfold with a slightly curious but otherwise blank face.

She couldn’t care less if Tony went and killed the guy. Hell, she’d willingly pull the trigger. But she knew there was the whole issue of “murder” and it would admittedly be a bad idea, but Nat knew the boys would help Tony see clearly, and then they’d come up with a different plan of attack.

Of course she could jump in right now and save them all the trouble by letting them know the inevitable plan.

But hey, she liked the entertainment.

“What!” Tony practically shouted, his tone laced with venom.

“Tony, you know you can’t go killing 16 year old kids.”

“Oh I won’t kill him, I’ll slaughter that bastard for touching Peter AND for threatening him.”

Steve placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony first instinct was to shrug the hand off but he instead turned and gave Steve a look.

“We’re angry too, alright? But killing won’t solve anything. Killing Skip won’t take away Peter’s hurt. Deep down, you know that too. You don’t want to kill anybody. You just want justice for Peter- and that, we can do.”

Tony looked into Steve’s earnest eyes, before looking around at the rest of the Avengers. He cursed internally, knowing deep down that Steve was right.

Tony let out a loud groan and collapsed to the couch, rubbing his temples.

“Fine. Alright. Whatever. Then what do you suggest we do? Because he’s going to pay for what he did. I’m not going to let this continue on for any longer.”

“Killing’s too good for him.” Nat spoke up for the first time, and all eyes turned to her, as per usual. Every time she opened her mouth, everyone listened. Her words had power.

“He deserves to have his whole world slipped from under him. He deserves to suffer for what he did. And we can do that. Think about it. He told Peter to keep quiet because he wants to make sure he gets into M.I.T. Stark, you can make sure absolutely no school will be willing to accept him- especially M.I.T. And just because we can’t kill him, doesn’t mean we can’t hurt him. Or scare him. Or torture him. I’m down for all three.”

Everybody looked thoughtfully at Nat’s idea. Although she began to stretch the limits a little bit towards the end, they all knew there was truth to that statement.

“We can’t go hurting a kid, you guys. We’re the Avengers. We’re supposed to be protecting the people.” Steve voiced. He was just as angry and upset as everybody else, but he was thinking realistically. This Skip guy was the same age as Peter, and they couldn’t go around messing with minors.

“A kid? Are you bullshitting me, Rogers? That “kid” just so happened to rape _my_ _kid_. He raped Peter, Steve. He hurt him. If he’s capable of doing something that... heinous, then he’s not classified as a kid anymore. He’s just as bad as the aliens, monsters, and villains we’re fighting against all the time.”

While everybody agreed with Tony, everyone was silently watching the intense exchange between him and the super-soldier. Although he’d never admit it, Steve could be just as stubborn as Tony.

“But-“ Steve began to say, wanting to stay stern in what he was saying, but he began to feel his resolve falter and see where Tony was right.

“He blames himself for it, you know,” Tony cut in, his voice more sad than angry this time. “You don’t get it. You weren’t there when he told me everything. Peter told me every. Single. Detail. Of what Skip did to him. Everything. He didn’t block out any of the rated R stuff either- he was speaking in auto pilot, as if he was reliving it. And towards the end, he just kept repeating how it was his fault. How he let it happen. How much he hated himself for it. How much he deserved it.”

Tony let out a humorless laugh. “There’s no redeeming it, Steve. No justifying it. There is no other alternative. We can’t let him get away with this; and he thinks he did. Skip is the person we should be protecting the world from. Even more, we should be protecting Peter. Because, like you said, we’re a team. And we protect one another.”

Flashes of a young Peter scared and alone, being violated in a way nobody should experience, flashed through Steve’s mind. Flashes of the Peter now trying to hide his pain from the rest of the teammates flashed through his head. Peter, Peter, Peter.

Steve’s heart ached for his young friend.

“Alright,” Steve announced. “I’m in.”


	7. And on he went

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait- I came down with the stomach flu and have been so sick for days now. Life is really kicking me in the butt. 
> 
> But hey, I promised myself that I would never be one of those writers that don’t finish their stories! Plus, I got attached to this story. And you guys are lovely. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! (And as always, please take care of yourself)

“Are you coming back to decathlon yet? MJ keeps making little jabs about you, she seems really hurt that you just dropped it out of no where. By the way, why did you leave decathlon anyway?”

Ned asked his best friend, as they sat around his bedroom piecing together their LEGO set.

Surprisingly, Peter was actually at Ned’s house when he said he was, not patrolling. It felt... a bit odd, if he was being honest, but he was trying to be better. And he did miss hanging out with his best friend all the time- it reminded Peter of the old days, when life was so much simpler.

Ah, the good old days.

“Uh, I don’t think so yet, Ned,” Peter replied, piecing together a LEGO before letting out a quiet, triumphant ‘yes.’ “And, you know, being Spider-Man is a lot to have on a teenager’s plate and I already have so much so for my own sake, I had to drop it.”

Peter hated lying to Ned. He knew he could tell Ned the truth, which is probably what he should’ve done, but somehow, Peter just couldn’t. Ned idolized Spider-Man and this whole superhero life, and it would shatter Peter if that went away because of this.

Ned let out a wondrous sigh. “Your life is so badass.”

Peter gave a bittersweet smile. “Yeah, it is.”

 

-

 

The streets of New York shone loudly and brightly as the skies shifted to a dusk blue, with hurrying cars and taxis zooming past, undoubtedly in a rush to get home.

Skip decided to walk home today- the weather was nice and cool, and he was certain that he’d get home sooner if he walked rather than hitched a ride. That’s New York for you.

He stuck both hands in his jeans front pockets, enjoying the cool breeze and couldn’t help but think of how perfectly his life was going recently.

He transferred to Midtown with ease, easily making it to the top with his intellect and charm. Skip knew how to deal with people, and he turned on the charm completely in his entrance to his new school.

It worked perfectly, because now he was on top of his class, a vital member of decathlon, a frequent volunteer for extracurricular activities, and was extremely well-liked among staff and students. He was well on his way to M.I.T.!

Letting out a content sigh, he let his eyes close slightly for a few seconds, his steps rhythmic and slow.

Until...

Skip’s eyes flew open and he turned around. He was met with nothing out of the ordinary, with New York’s inhabitants walking past him towards their destination, paying no heed to him.

But... Skip could’ve sworn he felt someone briefly touch his shoulder. It was a feather-like touch, as if someone was walking incredibly close behind him, and they brushed against his shoulder in the slightest touch.

Skip looked around suspiciously for a few more seconds, before shrugging it off and turning back around to head home. If someone had really touched him, he would’ve seen them, as Skip turned around too fast for the person to have gotten away that quickly.

Deciding to focus on his destination, Skip made it home just before the sky turned black.

“Ma, I’m home,” Skip announced, shutting the door behind him.

He was met with silence and darkness, and Skip’s eyebrows furrowed at that. Normally, his mom would be home at this time, talking loudly on the phone as she cooked dinner. This time, their house was completely silent, and it was difficult to see everything through the darkness. 

Skip stumbled as he reached for the light switch on his right, but the room remained in darkness even as he flipped the switch on and off. 

“Fuck,” Skip murmured, fumbling around his pockets for his phone.

He hesitated immediately when he heard something that sounded like feet shuffling nearby him.

“Who’s there?” Skip called loudly, certain that there was someone in his home who was unwelcome.

Unlocking his phone, he rushed to his keypad, preparing to call 911.

Before he could press the number 9, something hit his head hard, and everything faded to black.

 

-

 

It was bright.

Skip could tell that much as he came back to consciousness.

It was also loud.

There were multiple voices around him, all of which sounded vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t place where exactly they came from.

‘ _What_ _are_ _they_ _saying_...’ Skip thought to himself, trying to focus on listening in.

He could only make out a few words, but he couldn’t focus, because his head felt so heavy, and he felt funny. Why did he feel so loopy?

He brought a hand up to the spot on his head where he felt pressure, and as he did so, all conversation in the room ceased.

Touching the bump at the back of his head, Skip let out a laugh. He wasn’t sure why he was laughing, but the bump felt funny.

“Ouchie,” Skip mumbled, still giggling softly to himself.

A voice a few feet away from him scoffed. “You gave him a concussion, Nat.” The voice sounded cold.

“Should’ve hit him harder,” the same voice added, except quieter that time.

“Hey,” A different voice called out this time, except it was louder and clearer, as if directed towards Skip. 

Skip opened one eye, peeking at the people around him, before both eyes flew open. “You’re the Avengers!”

Skip wasn’t sure what to make out of this. He could possibly be dreaming, or the Avengers really were in front of him, looking a lot more menacing than their portrayal on TV. They looked... angry.

Maybe it’s because they each had rigid stances, and were wearing everyday clothes instead of their suits, or maybe it was the glare that each of them had on their faces. 

“And you’re Skip Wescott. You go to Midtown Tech. Pretty good grades. Good with people and good with teachers. Planning on going to M.I.T. Oh yeah, and rapist. Can’t forget that minor detail there,” Tony spoke, his voice dripping in sardonic humor, as if trying to conceal how he was really feeling but failing extensively. 

Skip froze in spite of the throbbing in his head, and looked at the people around him. How could they possibly know? 

It was just then that he realized that he couldn’t feel his legs.

He desperately tried to move them, and used his hands to try and evoke some feeling back in them.

“What did you do to me?” Skip asked, fear dripping through each word that came out of his mouth.

“It’ll wear off in a few hours. We just needed to make sure that we could have this conversation with you.” Steve said, standing directly in front of Skip’s seated form, his arms crossed across his chest.

“Conversation? Are you kidding me? First you break into my home, give me a concussion, numb my legs, intimidate me, and call that a conversation? This is illegal! I can report you to the police!” Skip yelled, furious at the situation he was in.

“Count yourself lucky that we don’t do worse,” Bruce commented, his eyes shining a bright green before going back to its usual brown. 

“And reporting us to the police? We could say the same thing to you, rapist,” Clint spat, having to physically stop himself from walking over to Skip and decking him right in the face. 

Skip shut up at that time, internally trying to find a way out of this.

“Huh? So? Want to try and talk your way out of this one?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You have the wrong guy.”

Natasha slowly approached Skip, keeping her intense stare on him as she bent slightly to place her face right in front of his, without much distance between them and without any place else for Skip to look at except for her eyes.

Skip felt himself begin to sweat, and tried to pull his head back as much as possible. 

“Want to try that again?” Natasha said threateningly, her eyes unblinking and full of venom as she stared into his eyes.

“I-I...” Skip stammered, suddenly becoming aware of the situation he was in. The Avengers knew what he did... it was like a nightmare.

“It happened a long time ago, alright? Plus, I already apologized to him. We’re good now,” Skip put on his most convincing tone he could. 

For a second, he thought he got away with it too, because Natasha backed up and walked away from him.

But not a second after she turned away, he was met with a very angry looking Tony Stark.

“ _Bullshit_. You didn’t apologize, you _threatened_ him to keep his mouth shut. You _threatened_ that you’d do it again if he didn’t,” Tony spat, repeatedly probing his finger onto Skip’s chest at every emphasis.

“And normally, I wouldn’t want to stoop down to your level, but you leave me no choice here, just like you didn’t give Peter a choice,” Tony’s voice was as cold as can be, and afraid of what he could do, Skip’s hand flicked upwards in the slightest but Tony was too fast and he caught his wrist, holding onto it tightly. “You touch, hurt, or even look at Peter ever again, we won’t be easy on you. We won’t take mercy on you. I could hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine and I wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. 

“You can also say goodbye to M.I.T. while you’re at it. Actually, you can say goodbye to any college in New York, because you are now denied from every admission list from this point onward and forever,” Skip’s eyes widened at this and he let out a loud exclamation, but Tony didn’t even blink as he squeezed his wrist tighter and Skip’s yell of exclamation turned into one of pain.

“You’re also not returning to Midtown. I don’t care where you’re left to go now. Your name and records no longer apply. But you should be thanking me, really, because you will be taking mandatory weekly sessions with a psychologist that will make you understand the horror that you committed against another human being and how willingly you were to doing it again. You need help, and I’m giving it to you. And if you don’t accept it, fine by me, because your only other option is jail. I’ll be keeping tabs on you, and if you miss more than 3 days, it’s behind bars for you. So much as think about touching another person without their consent, I will know, and I will take action. I will not be as lenient as I am now. And you will be signing a non disclosure agreement about this. Unless... I don’t think you even want to know what ‘unless’ I’m talking about.”

Skip was crying now, fury and frustration in his eyes, hating the person in front of him more than he’s ever hated anyone in his life. And he wanted him to hurt. So he brought up his free wrist to strike Tony, but again, he was too slow.

Within a millisecond, Steve grabbed ahold of his arm and bent it in a way that made Skip scream once again in pain.

Skip’s movement seemed to have caused a domino effect, because Tony and Steve both had tight hold on Skip’s wrists, while Natasha held a gun tightly to the side of Skip’s head, Clint had his bow and arrow aimed at Skip, and Bruce was next to him, looking tauntingly green.

Skip shut his eyes in fear and he felt his whole body begin to shake. “Please, don’t, I won’t do it again, I promise! I’ll listen to everything you said, just please let me go.”

However, the Avengers did not back down.

“How does it feel to be crowded like this? How does it feel to fear for your life, for your safety? How does it feel to beg desperately, and not have it do anything? How does it feel to not have a choice?”

Tony pressed, his own eyes growing watery. He felt something erupt inside him looking at Skip, and he was losing it. Tony knew he was losing it completely.

“That fear and pain you feel right now? It’s not even an ounce of what Peter feels everyday because of you. You try living your life feeling- no, knowing- a part of you was stolen and will never get back. Could you live like that Skip? Could you?”

Skip’s eyes were shut tightly, tears steaming down his face, as he shook his head. But Tony had no sympathy; where was the sympathy when he assaulted Peter?

“We could do it, you know. Nat could pull the trigger, Clint could shoot the arrow, Bruce could hulk-slam you, Cap could snap all the bones in your body, and I could choke you until you turn purple.”

The room went silent, all except for Skip’s rapid breathing as he waited for the pain to come and for it all to fade to black.

But it never came.

At once, all the Avengers slowly stepped away from Skip, lowering their weapons.

Skip confusedly opened his eyes, his chest still heaving in and out.

“But we won’t do that. As much as we’d like to,” Tony’s once cold, angry tone faded into his fake-pleasant, business tone as he stuck both hands in pants pockets and looked at Skip as he spoke. “You know why? Not because we want to be all high and mighty or because we feel for you. Oh, no. It’s because death would be far too easy for you. You deserve to feel the repercussions of your actions, and you deserve to regret them the rest of your life so you don’t ever do the same thing to another person ever again.”

“And personally,” Tony added. He honestly couldn’t really comprehend what he was saying. He was pretty certain that this would all be a blur later on- he was acting on pure emotion right now. “You want to know why I’m not doing it? Why, of course you do.”

Tony kneeled to Skip’s level, and looked at the shaking boy with a fake smile that didn’t quite reach his angry eyes. “Because if you’re alive, you’ll forever know that your fear comes in the shape of two simple words: Tony Stark.”

 

-

 

Peter let out a shaky breath as he laid out the pamphlets on his bed.

At school today, he decided to pass by the health office, and they always had a bunch of pamphlets on the wall for all sorts of things- including some for rape survivors.

Survivor.

That’s a word that Peter would have to get used to. All these weeks he’s considered himself a victim, and nothing else.

But he was a survivor. And he would keep repeating it to himself until he eventually believed it.

Looking at the pamphlets, Peter tried to calm himself. He couldn’t panic but May was sleeping in her room nearby, and Peter really didn’t want to go through another attack. He’s had enough to last himself a lifetime.

He couldn’t understand why he was so afraid to open and read through these pamphlets. These pamphlets were made to help people like him, so they couldn’t be a bad thing, but Peter couldn’t help but feel anxious.

The voices in his head kept telling him that he didn’t deserve help, that he was being over dramatic, and other condescending things that Peter had grown used to hearing.

As strong as they were, Peter didn’t understand why he kept fighting either. Why he wanted to help himself even when he felt like there’d be no point.

He didn’t understand any of what he was going through. He didn’t understand how to go about any of this.

He was just a kid.

But Peter understood that there was some force in him compelling him forward. And he may not understand it now, but maybe he would in the future.

Placing one hand on his chest and another on his stomach, Peter practiced the breathing techniques that Bruce had taught him not too long ago after he had experienced a severe anxiety attack in the lab after a flashback.

Peter closed his eyes as he reconnected himself to his body, and reminded himself that he was here, he was alive, and he was in control.

 _Thump_. _Thump_. _Thump_.

Peter breathed in with the fall and rise of his chest as he listened to his heart beat.

He let out the breath he was holding as he opened his eyes and reached for a pamphlet.

And on he went.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that most stories with Skip, or even any sexual offender, don’t really depict the confrontation. It’s always either referenced, or it’s just about the Avengers beating him up. 
> 
> I honestly thought twice about including the scene with Skip and the Avengers, because this story is meant initially for Peter’s journey and I was afraid that the story would deter away because of it, but I decided to include it though in a different way that isn’t just about beating Skip up and calling it revenge- I wanted to make sure this confrontation was purposeful and meaningful for all parties involved. 
> 
> Also, because I wish I had a supportive group like the Avengers looking out for me like Peter does. And I love living vicariously through my writing. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you’re all doing well and taking care of yourselves. I’ll see you next chapter! X


	8. The ending of one thing is the beginning of another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry for the late update! 
> 
> I’ve honestly been struggling to write this fic because I’m at the point where I’m writing about recovery and healing, but I myself am struggling in real life. 
> 
> How can I write about Peter’s recovery when I don’t even know what that looks like for myself?
> 
> But I tried my best and I hope it was sufficient enough. 
> 
> P.S. This chapter is pretty much the last chapter. (Though I might add an epilogue!)  
> Thank you all so much for giving this story a shot and for all your wonderful comments. They make my days 100x brighter every time I read them. 
> 
> Also, thank you for your support. This story has been so amazing for me to write because of all of you. Thank you thank you thank you!♥️

In books and movies, therapy was an easy fix. The struggling characters would finally decide to see a therapist and, boom, happily ever after. (Kinda).

And so, Peter naively thought that once he sought out therapy, then things would start to look up.

Well, he knew it would be a bit hard, but he never imagined it would be _this_ hard.

First, finding a therapist that would take in a client who was a) a minor and b) did not want his guardian involved or even aware of the process, was a major difficulty.

There was also the matter of finance, because since Peter didn’t want May involved at all (and Peter knew she wouldn’t have had the funds to pay for it anyway), and Peter didn’t work, it was suffice to say that Peter had no money to pay for the help he needed.

All of the added struggle in going to therapy honestly discouraged Peter, and made him feel hopeless and alone.

He let out a breath and tried his best to think optimistically, but he felt like a dark cloud was looming over him and a whole weight was placed on his shoulders.

Peter rubbed his face messily before thanking the school counselor that gave him all the information he needed, and walked out the door towards class.

_If_ _only_ _it_ _were_ _as_ _simple_ _as_ _me_ _reaching_ _out_ _for_ _help_ _and_ _then_ _getting_ _it_ , Peter thought to himself. _What_ _am_ _I_ _supposed_ _to_ _do_ _now_?

Peter let out a shiver when he remembered that he’d have to try and dodge Skip today, and his mood sunk ever further. Is this what his life would be like from now on?

“Peter,” Ned called, rushing over to his best friend. “Did you hear?”

Peter looked at Ned with scrunched eyebrows. “You might want to elaborate a bit more, Ned.”

Ned rolled his eyes and walked rhythmically next to Peter. “About Skip!”

Peter froze, but reminded himself to keep walking and act as cool as possible. “What about him?”

“He got expelled! Apparently, he lied about his records and flunked his classes. I dunno, but he left this morning! He and his mom are moving to Michigan now.”

Peter stopped mid-step and went wide-eyed.

Ned stopped too and looked back at Peter. “I know right! It’s a shame, really, because he was a pretty well-liked guy.”

They resumed their walk, and Ned went on, but Peter was too distracted now to listen to anything Ned was saying.

He couldn’t believe his ears. Was he dreaming? Was the world showing him mercy?

And then it suddenly struck him.

Clint. Bruce. Nat. Steve.

Tony.

“And I assure you, they will get what’s coming to them...” Tony’s voice rang through Peter’s head, and he sighed exasperatedly yet gratefully.

Peter smiled to himself.

His family was too much.

_

 

Peter walked into an oddly quiet common room.

Normally, upon walking in, Peter would be met with the loud chatter of the Avengers or the increased volume of the TV. But this particular time, it seemed empty.

“Hey, FRI, where is everybody at?” Peter asked the AI, setting his backpack down on its usual spot near the kitchen.

“Boss and Miss Potts are presently in a meeting, Thor is still in space, Miss Romanoff is reading a book on the couch, Dr. Banner is in his lab, and everybody else’s whereabouts are currently unknown.”

Peter swung around towards the couch, and sure enough, Nat was on the couch reading a book. 

How she managed to remain uncharted whenever she so pleased was something that Peter would never understand yet always respect. After being a spy for years, it probably became second nature for Nat to be sneaky and quiet even when she didn’t need to be.

“Nat! I didn’t see you there,” Peter recalled, throwing himself on the couch next to her.

“Hey Pete,” Nat closed her book and turned to the teenage boy. “How was school?”

Peter let out a mix between a content and tired sigh. “It was alright. I have a lot on my plate, that’s for sure.”

As Peter’s eyes were trained ahead towards the TV flipping through the channels, Nat openly studied him.

Peter was used to her stares. He knew she wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, it was just Nat. She analyzed and studied people all the time.

“Skip bothering you?” Nat asked bluntly.

Peter froze for a second, before recovering. “No, not really. Actually, he just so happened to have been expelled from Midtown today, and word says that he was sporting quite a few injuries as he headed out, too. I wonder how that happened.”

Peter’s voice didn’t leak obvious sarcasm, but it was there all the same, and Nat knew that he knew.

“We could’ve done worse. He got off with a warning,” Natasha shrugged.

Peter halted his channel search, and turned to Nat. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“How did you get through it?”

Nat cocked her head slightly to the left as she regarded Peter. Although he didn’t specify what “it” meant, she understood. And she wasn’t exactly taken aback by his question- she knew it was going to come sooner or later.

“O-or, you don’t have to answer that! I’m sorry, that was so sudden and I shouldn’t have asked you such a personal question, I just knew that you went through a similar experience and I just-“

“It took me a long time,” Nat started, cutting Peter off as if he didn’t say anything. “I still struggle with it sometimes. But it’s not something that has control over my life.”

She paused, and silence filled the room as Peter’s full attention was presently on the Avenger, hanging onto her every word.

“It wasn’t pretty getting here though. I spent years feeling like my body wasn’t my own anymore, and I always felt defective and dirty. I tried to chase all those feelings away with work, and I worked myself to the bone. I became the best, yes, but there’s a price that comes when you don’t allow yourself to heal properly and I’m still paying that price.

I know you feel that you need to go it alone, and that you need to downplay your emotions because you’re Spider-Man. But listen to me when I say that you need to do the exact opposite. If there’s one thing I wish I could’ve done different, that would be it. We all need and deserve help sometimes, and that’s something I only recently learned when I joined the Avengers.”

Peter felt something in him soften as she spoke. Maybe it was the intense admiration that he had for her, but listening to her speak made Peter feel better- feel less alone.

Peter merely nodded, his throat closing up. He felt like he had a thousand things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t form the words.

“You know, you guys didn’t need to do... whatever you did to Skip. I could’ve handled it,” Peter trailed off, playing with his fingers which rested on his lap.

“Oh, we knew that,” Nat waved her hands in the air dismissively. “We just wanted to.”

“Thank you,” Peter whispered, and gave Natasha a slight smile. He hoped that that smile would convey enough of his emotions, because he was feeling so many so quickly at this point.

He wasn’t sure where his head was at entirely. He knew Skip was gone, but his head was in denial. He also knew that just because Skip was literally gone didn’t mean that his effect would be gone too. Peter was also overwhelmed with gratitude and love for the Avengers, he didn’t even know how to approach it.

But, as always, Natasha somehow understood, and she gave him a smile back while patting her lap, ushering Peter to lay his head on her.

“Come here,” She offered, and Peter wasted no time in laying down on the Avenger. Right when Peter’s head hit her lap, she immediately began running her fingers through his hair.

“FRIDAY, put on _Star_ _Wars_ : _Return_ _of_ _the_ _Jedi_.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile to himself.

-

“How’s it going, Peter?” Bruce asked, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth as he turned to the young boy who entered his lab rather suddenly.

“Good. It’s going good. I, uh, hope I’m not imposing,” Peter remained where he stood, uncertain if he came in at a bad time. Bruce was always very busy.

“Oh, not at all! Come in,” Bruce waved him over, and Peter took that as his cue to come closer.

“I won’t take up much of your time,” Peter said. After his talk with Nat and a comfortable evening relaxing while watching Star Wars, he felt a bit more clear-headed. “I just wanted to thank you for, you know, Skip. I know you each had a part in making him go away. And also for helping me through all of this. I know you’re busy but you never hesitated to take time to be there for me. So, thank you, Bruce.”

Bruce, a little taken aback by the sudden gratitude but still very much happy for it, smiled at the teen. “You’re very welcome. You’re family, Peter. So, any time.”

Peter felt his throat closing up again as he gazed up to Bruce, each of them smiling softly at one another, until Bruce tore his gaze away and began to rattle on about what he was working on.

Peter merely smiled and directed his attention to Bruce’s work, talking animatedly with a man who, contrary to popular belief, held so much more love in his heart than anger.

-

“Psst,” A voice sounded throughout the dark room. Peter opened his eyes and sat up slightly from his bed, narrowing his eyes into the darkness. “Hey, Peter.”

“Clint?” Peter whispered and glanced at the clock next to his bed. It read 4:37AM.

Clint nodded his head, even though Peter couldn’t see him, and sat on the foot of Peter’s bed.

Peter groaned slightly and flipped the light switch, light suddenly coating the room making both Peter and Clint flinch at its brightness.

“FRIDAY, dim the lights a bit, please,” Peter called out, and the AI did as told, earning a soft thank you from Peter.

Peter let his vision focus on the archer sitting at the foot of his bed. He took notice that Clint was in his suit, although there weren’t any noticeable injuries on him which made Peter feel at ease. “It is an ungodly hour, Clint, why are you in my room?”

Clint shrugged and gave a goofy smile. “I just got back from a quick mission and wanted to see my favorite nephew.”

Peter rolled his eyes at that, but couldn’t help the smile from spreading on his face. “That’s it? You woke me up from my peaceful sleep just ‘cause you wanted to see me?”

Clint scoffed at the teen. “You can’t fool me, kid. You weren’t sleeping, you were trying to sleep. I was a spy, remember? I can tell when someone is really asleep or not.”

His voice went slightly softer, “Plus, I know you struggle to sleep at night still, Peter.”

Peter gazed at Clint for a few seconds, wondering if he was really that easy to read or if the Avengers all knew him too well.

After a few moments, Peter let out a deep breath and shrugged, slumping against his headboard. “It’s part of the job, right? Everybody in this tower struggles with insomnia.”

Clint shifted in his spot, feeling slightly out of place. What was he supposed to say to that?

“True. But we don’t pretend that we don’t. We actually talk to one another and try to help ourselves instead of hiding it. Well, except for Tony. You’re too much like him for your own good,” Clint commented, and Peter let out a chuckle. 

“Hey, being compared to one of the most loved superheroes and smartest minds in the world isn’t the worst thing,” Peter pointed out.

“Don’t let Tony catch you saying that! His ego’s already way too inflated,” Clint joked, and both men laughed, making the room seem brighter than it really was.

“Thanks for coming to see me,” Peter said after they both quieted down. It was obvious that Clint knew that Peter struggled to sleep and was aware that he was awake, so he went over to make sure he wasn’t alone.

Clint shrugged. “No problem, kiddo.”

“And,” Peter added quickly. “Thanks for doing what you did with Skip, even though I have no idea what you guys did and I know none of you will ever tell me, but all I know is that you guys did it for me. So... thank you.”

This time Clint was the one to gaze at Peter for a short while before he shook his head as a smile broke out onto his face. “Nah, thank you, Peter. For letting us help you. None of us would be able to bare it, watching you suffer on your own. You’re a good kid.”

“Thanks... Uncle Clint,” Peter said, an amused look in his eyes, and Clint let out a loud laugh as he shoved Peter’s shoulder.

Clint scoffed. “All this mushy thanking thing is getting a little old. Scoot over.”

Peter moved to the right, leaving space on his left for Clint to sit next to him. “Don’t you want to go to sleep? You must be tired since you literally just got back from a mission. Or at least change?”

Clint sagged against the headboard, and threw Peter’s covers over both their legs as he turned on the TV. 

“You said it yourself. Everybody in this tower’s got a sleeping problem- you and I included. So, might as well stay awake together, right?”

Peter didn’t have it in him to argue, and he secretly liked having company at night when he couldn’t sleep because vivid memories of Skip clouded his mind.

He merely threw a pillow over Clint’s side and slouched against him, both of them falling into a comfortable silence as they watched Friends reruns on the TV.

Neither of them would ever admit it, but both heroes eventually fell into an easy sleep for the rest of the night, comforted by the soothing presence of one another.

-

Peter felt himself begin to drip sweat. He was exhausted, but he couldn’t stop.

He showed the punching bag in front of him no mercy, his loud and hard punches echoing through the empty and wide training room of Avengers Tower.

He punched and kicked, left and right, as unwanted memories of Skip flashed through his head.

Every touch earned a punch. Every word spoken by Skip earned a kick. Peter released every pent up, conflicting feeling he had in his system to this punching bag, and he gave no mercy.

“Working hard?” A voice that anybody would recognize anywhere pulled Peter out of his thoughts, and Peter halted his kicks and punches, breathing heavily as he turned to the super soldier.

“Just, uh, wanted to let off some steam. Plus, I needed to train anyway,” Peter gestured to the punching bag. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. Here,” Steve threw a water bottle to Peter, who caught it quickly thanks to his reflexes. “Drink. It’s important to stay hydrated.”

Peter gave Steve a light thank you, before taking sips from the bottle. “I didn’t know you were here today.”

Steve shrugged, passing a towel for Peter to wipe himself. “I went to go visit a friend. Sometimes I need a little grounding.”

Peter raised an eyebrow and let out a faux gasp. “The great Captain America needs breaks? Who would’ve thought!”

Steve shook his head and laughed. “Even the best of us do.”

“How are you doing, Peter?”

Peter shrugged, his breathing returning to normal at this point. “Doing what I can at this point. But definitely better than before.”

Steve nodded, pleased to hear that he was doing at least a little bit better.

“I owe it partly to you, though,” Peter added, taking another sip of water. Now that he started, Peter felt the need to personally thank each of the Avengers.

Steve quirked an eyebrow at the boy, puzzled. “How so?”

“For everything. You are the backbone of this entire team, and you make certain that we stay that way: a team. Thank you. Plus, I know you had a hand in getting Skip to practically disappear. Thank you for caring enough about me to do that.”

Gratitude surged throughout Peter once again. As sucky as his situation was, he was grateful to have his team to support him.

“Of course, Peter. We are a team, and more importantly, a family at this point. A pretty dysfunctional one at that, but still one nonetheless. You’ll always be part of this family,” Steve clapped his hand on Peter’s shoulder, and Peter couldn’t help but go forward and wrap his arms around Steve’s torso.

Steve was a bit taken aback, but smiled down at the teen before hugging him back. “You’re a good man, Peter. Always stay that way.”

The two of them remained like that for a bit longer than what’s considered normal, but neither of them minded. They had all day, after all.

-

Peter swung his legs over the ledge of the building, gazing at the sun setting over New York City.

The last time Peter was on this building was quite possibly the worse day of his life, where he was so panicked and out of it that he couldn’t trust anyone but Natasha.

He remembered vividly that feeling of pure fear and misery, and compared it to now, as he swung his legs back and forth off the ledge in a soft, rhythmic motion as he calmly watched the sky go from a baby blue to a mixture of orange and pinks. 

Peter closed his eyes and allowed to soft breeze to fly past him, enjoying this rare moment of peace in his fast-paced life. 

“Now, this seems eerily familiar,” a voice shot out, and if Peter didn’t know that voice as well as he did, the sound of repulsers would’ve been a dead giveaway.

Instead of giving a witty reply like Tony was expecting, Peter remained silent.

This made him instantly nervous, getting major deja vu from quite possibly one of the worst moments of his life. And trust Tony when he says he’s had a lot. 

“Pete?” Tony tried, not moving a muscle. He would not have a repeat of last time. Absolutely not.

“The wind feels nice,” Peter said absentmindedly, his eyes still shut, and Tony was taken aback. Relieved that he wasn’t in any danger, yes, but also confused about his nonchalance.

Luckily, Tony didn’t have to ask, because Peter continued on. “When everything went down with Skip, I didn’t think that I would ever be able to appreciate these sort of things anymore. I didn’t think that I would be able to see the beauty in anything after experiencing something so terrible.”

Tony felt his heart go out to Peter as he spoke, and he quietly moved from his spot to sit next to Peter on the ledge, not taking his eyes off of the teenager.

Peter let out a laugh mixed with sadness and incredulity. “But here I am, enjoying the breeze and the sun setting before me. And I’m beginning to realize that life goes on, with or without you. And I don’t want life to go on without me. I don’t want to survive. I want to live.”

Peter finally opened his eyes at the end of his sentence, his eyes glimmering with tears, the reflection of the setting sky splayed across his face.

His eyes contained hope and fear, wonder and sadness, glee and hesitance all at once, and Tony had never seen so much conveyed in one pair of eyes. 

“Good for you, kid,” Tony started, unwilling to admit that he was getting choked up. “I’m proud of you.”

“I don’t know where the future is headed,” Peter’s voice thick with emotion. “But I owe you so much, Mr. Stark. So, so much.”

Tony shook his head. “You did it all on your own. You owe yourself that recognition. Your strength, your perseverance, your drive to do better, that’s all you, buddy. And it’s so inspiring.”

Peter let out a choked laugh, his eyes still shining with tears. “We all need help sometimes. And you gave me the best help I could’ve needed. You supported me in the best ways. You carry so much on your shoulders and yet you find a way to still carry me. I’m lucky to say that Tony Stark is my hero, not just Iron Man.”

Ah shit, Tony thought as he felt his throat tightening with emotion. “You’re... you’re the best of all of us, Pete. You’re more of a superhero than I am. You’ll change the world. And I’ll always be your biggest advocate, besides Aunt May, because we all know that woman will always be number one.”

They both let out teary laughs at that.

“Thank you,” Peter choked out. “I can already imagine that you’re the one who gave Skip the toughest break. And I know that you probably did so much more that I don’t know, but I’m still so thankful for anyways. Because of you, and because of everybody, maybe now I can start healing.”

The end of his sentence sounded so broken yet hopeful at the same time that Tony couldn’t help but throw his arm around Peter’s shoulders and tug him closer. “You can. You can, Peter. And you will. It’ll be hard, but you’re Peter Parker. You will get through it. I’m certain of that. I’ll make sure of it.”

Peter sniffed and laid his head on Tony’s shoulder, still staring ahead at the sky.

“By the way, you have an appointment with a therapist next week. Her name’s Lawrence. She’s actually all of the Avengers therapist- she’s great, and she’s great at keeping secrets. I thought that maybe it would be better for you to meet with someone who you didn’t have to hide part of yourself from, and if it doesn’t work out with her, we can always get another therapist too. Just say the word.”

Tony didn’t understand how much this meant to Peter. How much any of it meant to a poor, tired, overwhelmed teenage superhero who had no idea how to juggle everything on his plate.

So Peter just hugged his mentor a little tighter and a little longer as the sky turned to a darkening blue, the last inch of the sun disappearing into the horizon.

Tony rested his head on top of Peter’s and squeezed him slightly. “You’ll be alright.”

Peter closed his eyes and let out soft breaths.

_Yeah_ , Peter thought to himself. _Maybe_ _I_ _will_ _be_.

Peter had scars. Some were visible, and others weren’t. Some were fading away, like the sun as it bids farewell to another day, and others were fresh on him, like the moon as it shines brightly through the dark night.

Yeah, Peter had scars. Yeah, some you could see with the naked eye and others you couldn’t.

But each scar stood as a testament to his strength. In spite of it all, he was a survivor. He was a fighter. He was Peter Parker.

All because of his scars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sad that this is over. I loved writing this. Thank you so much if you’ve read all of this from the beginning to its end. 
> 
> I hope you all, like Peter, find strength in your scars. 
> 
> As always, please take care of yourselves. 
> 
> ♥️


	9. Eplogue: Man of the Hour

“Peter! Come on, you’re going to be late!” The raised voice of Aunt May reached the inside of Peter’s room, where Peter was hurriedly putting his shoes on.

Before exiting, Peter gave himself a one-over in the mirror, and let out a breath as he took himself in. Standing before him in the mirror was an 18 year old young man, looking largely more dapper than usual in his suit and his slicked back hair. His tie was strewn over his shoulders, as Peter couldn’t figure out how to tie his own tie (because some things never change).

Peter gave his reflection a nervous smile before fumbling out of his room into the living room where his aunt was undoubtedly impatiently waiting for him.

“Goodness, Pete-“ May exasperatedly began when hearing her nephew stumble into the room, but once she turned around to look at him, she immediately forgot what she was planning on saying.

Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she took in her not-so-babyish baby. It had seemed like not too long ago when she and Ben took in a 4 year old Peter, and now all of a sudden, a grown man who was much taller than her was standing before her. How could time have gone so fast?

“Oh, Peter,” May breathed, approaching her nephew. “You look so handsome.”

She gave him an emotional smile, reaching over to smooth the fabric over his shoulders before doing Peter’s tie for him.

 

_“Aunt May,” Peter said quietly- so quietly, that May had to bend down to his height to hear him._

_“Yes, baby?” She said equally quietly, mustering up a smile for the young child. 4 year old Peter was standing before her, his head hung down, and his little tie crumpled and undone. Seeing this, May carefully began to fix it for him._

_“Mommy and daddy are really gone?”_

_May’s hands froze, and she felt an onslaught of tears reach her once again, but she suppressed it for the sake of the little boy._

_“Yeah, Petey,” May whispered, her eyes shining with tears. “I’m so sorry.”_

_Peter’s head remained down._

 

“Thanks, Aunt May,” Peter smiled down at his aunt.

May sniffed offhandedly, her hands working over his tie as she tried not to get emotional this soon. “My God, I have never felt so old in my life. How can it be that my baby is graduating high school today? It feels like just yesterday you bounced into our lives.”

 

_“I can’t do this,” May cried, pacing the room, trying her best to keep her voice lowered since her 4 year old nephew was sleeping in the room next door._

_Tears were streaming down her face as she continued to pace, her hands shaking, and she still had not dressed out of her funeral clothes._

_“I can’t raise a child, Ben. I’m not mother material, look at me!” May pointed at herself, her voice turning hysterical._

_Ben, who had been silent for a good portion of the day, tiredly approached his wife and placed both hands firmly on her upper arms, keeping her still._

_May looked shakily up to her husband, and she swore she’d never seen him look so exhausted in his life. “He needs us, May.”_

_May’s lips quivered as she looked into Ben’s eyes, both of them feeling the emptiness that would always be there now that Mary and Richard were gone. “And we need him.”_

_May couldn’t argue with that. She just threw her arms around Ben, digging her face into his neck as she grieved. And for the first time since Ben found out about the accident, he let tears slip down his face, cursing the universe for taking them away- from him, from May, and from Peter._

_It was a dark night._

 

Peter rolled his eyes at his aunt’s sentiment, a smile gracing his face. She was zoned out. “And I thought I was going to be late?”

That seemed to break May out of her reverie, and she jolted with an “Oh!” before running to the closet to bring out Peter’s cap and gown.

“Here! Quickly, put this on.”

Peter did as told, and he suddenly became completely covered in blue, per his blue gown and blue cap.

May gave him a wide, emotional smile once again as she took in how grown up her baby looked.

 

_“Ah, ah, ah,” May started, taking the cup out of Peter’s hands, making the young boy pout. “Coffee is for grown ups, Petey.”_

_Peter crossed his arms petulantly, giving a huff. “I wanna be a grownup!”_

_May laughed, shaking her head. “Oh trust me, you don’t.”_

_“Oh yes I do!”_

_May laughed inwardly at Peter’s childlike stubbornness. “Oh really? If you’re a grown up, then that means you have to live away from Uncle Ben and me. Here, I’ll help you go pack,” She joked, pretending to head to Peter’s room._

_But Peter let out a strangled yell and jumped off his seat to hug his aunt’s legs tightly. “No, I wanna stay with you and Uncle Ben! I don’t wanna be a grown up anymore! Don’t leave me!”_

_May stared wide-eyed at the distraught child clinging to her legs, shocked at his reaction. A flare of worry about what to do shot through her, but she shook her head. They had Peter for 3 weeks now- and she wasn’t as hopeless as she thought she would be. She bent down to pick Peter up, and rested him on her hip. “Hey, I was just joking around with you. I’m sorry, it wasn’t a funny joke, huh?”_

_Peter merely dug his head into his aunt’s neck, sniffling slightly._

_May pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m never letting you go.”_

_Peter squeezed her tighter._

 

She waved away her emotions with a sway of her hands. “Okay, before I start all this again, let’s go.”

“May,” Peter called out, and right as she turned around, Peter crushed her in a hug.

“Thank you,” Peter whispered. “I don’t know where I’d be without you. Everything I’ve done has been for you, and Ben. I owe you both everything.”

 

_The young boy was noticeably hiding something behind his back, his face scrunched in anxiety. Ben stood behind him, urging his nephew forward._

_May placed the book she was reading down, and regarded the both of them. “What you got there, Peter?”_

_Peter bit his lip nervously, tilting his head to look up at his uncle, who smiled at him and pushed him forward slightly._

_Peter walked over to his confused aunt, and she gave him a supportive smile when he approached._

_“I know you’re not my real mommy, but you’re my Aunt May, and you take care of me and love me like my mommy did,” Peter started, before handing May what was hiding behind his back._

_It was a drawing of him, Ben, and May that he had made, with Mary and Richard in the clouds. In big, messy, childlike letters spelled “Happy Mothers Day.”_

_“Do you like it?” Peter asked innocently, since his aunt’s eyes seemed glued to the paper in her hands._

_May forced herself to look up at her nephew. “Honey, I love it. Thank you so much,” She softly pulled Peter into a hug, who happily reciprocated the hug. Over Peter’s shoulders, May gazed up in disbelief with watery eyes at Ben, who himself had shining eyes as he watched the two of them._

_Ben was right._

_They needed Peter. Perhaps more than he needed them._

 

May couldn’t help the tears that seemed to flood her eyes. She had gotten so lucky to have the best nephew anyone could ever ask for. Her throat tight with emotion, she merely hugged Peter equally tightly before forcing herself to pull away, because if she didn’t just then, she knew she’d never let go like she promised all those years ago.

But she knew she had to.

She wiped her eyes slightly, and pat her nephew’s cheek affectionately, before turning around to grab the car keys and everything else she needed to head out.

Peter continued to smile at his aunt, and after taking one last deep breath, he followed her out the door.

 

-

 

“Are you nervous?” Ned asked over the loud chatter of the audience beyond the curtain.

“A little bit, I just hope I don’t fall when my name’s called,” Peter said.

All of Midtown’s seniors were backstage behind the curtain, awaiting their cue to walk onstage and take their seats in front of their friends and family.

“Me too. I can’t believe we’re graduating!”

Peter hummed in reply, trying to peek beyond the curtain.

“Are Mr. Stark and all the Avengers going to come?”

Peter shook his head. “Nah, having all of them here would cause a media outbreak. May and I are just going to go meet them at the Tower afterwards.”

Ned pouted slightly. “Aw, that’s too bad.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s alright! I know they’d be here if they could, but it’s hard with paparazzi and fans. I understand.”

Peter and Ned’s conversation was interrupted when Principal Morita began to speak to the audience, before it was their cue to walk onstage.

As Peter walked from behind the curtain onto the stage, it must’ve only taken a few seconds. But in his mind, it felt like an eternity, as flashes of his years at Midtown went through his head.

He thought of Ned and MJ, and all the memories he made thanks to them, and he thought of Skip.

It always came back to Skip.

He’s been gone for two years now, and the mark he left on Peter’s life had not left. It would never leave, Peter knew, and he was learning how to accept that.

He thought of his journey towards healing, and although it’s been 2 years and Peter was in fact doing considerably better, he knew he still had a long way to go. But as he walked out on the stage, bright lights blinding him and the crowd’s roaring applause, Peter felt okay with that.

At least, he tried his best to.

Fake it until you make it, right?

Once Peter took his seat on the stage, he squinted his eyes to look out into the crowd in search of May, and when he spotted her he grinned widely. She was at the very front, in the special visitors section.

But that grin faded slightly in shock when he looked at who was next her. Taking up the whole special visitors section was everyone he loved and admired all together, cheering on and supporting him.

Up on their feet alongside May stood Pepper, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Thor, Steve, and Tony, each of them applauding and cheering loudly, gazing up at the man of the hour.

Peter gazed at them in shock, before a smile that he was sure reached his ears graced his face as waved at them. He felt like crying- this was one of the best surprises Peter’s ever gotten in his life.

Even after the applause died down and the ceremony officially started, Peter couldn’t keep his eyes off of his family despite the many speakers. He was sure that he would’ve missed his name being called if it wasn’t for Ned nudging him to get up. Peter fumbled slightly as he stood, but he plastered on a big grin as he walked to accept his certificate.

The cheers of the Avengers and May were deafening, and since they were first row, Peter could clearly hear the proud yell of “that’s my intern!” from none other than Tony Stark.

Certificate in hand, Peter turned to walk back towards his seat, giving him a clear view of the Avengers. They were all on their feet once again, besides Clint, who was jumping up and down like a child. May had a soft yet immensely proud smile on her face, and when she caught Peter’s gaze, she blew a kiss towards him.

Tony, who was standing next to her, also held a proud smile on his face, except his wasn’t soft; it was a big, toothy grin that he rarely showed the world. When they matched gazes, Tony winked at his mentee before giving him a thumbs up.

Peter grinned all the way back to his seat, and that grin didn’t leave him even after he had turned his tassel from right to left, was officially declared a Midtown graduate, and walked offstage.

 

-

 

When the elevator doors opened and Peter walked out into the common room, he was again met with applause and loud cheers.

Peter rolled his eyes, a smile on his face, “Alright, alright, you guys. You can stop that now.”

When Peter walked offstage, the Avengers all had to make a quick exit to head back to the Tower to avoid the crowd and media, so Peter decided to meet themat the Tower after spending a little bit of time with May. She was supposed to come, but it had gotten late, and she had an early work day the next day.

But she didn’t leave before giving Peter two big smooches on both his cheeks, earning a whiny “Aunt Maaaay” from Peter.

“Young Peter!” Thor’s loud voice boomed throughout the applause. He approached Peter and clapped his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Congratulations on your graduation!”

Peter beamed, and went forward to hug Thor. “Thor! Thank you! I had no idea you were back from space!”

Peter was nearly bouncing on his feet- he had missed Thor so much, and having all the Avengers together made everything just feel so complete.

Thor let out a loud laugh; everything Thor did was loud. “Stark sent word months back that a certain young Peter would be graduating, and in spite of the fact that I had no recollection of the word graduation, I knew it was an incredible feat worth celebrating because it had to do with you!” Thor’s smile was contagious, because Peter smiled widely back at the God. “You’re a good man. Never change.”

“Woah, easy there. _Man?_ How old is he again, like 12? He’s still the little kiddy we met all those years ago,” Clint teased from the couch, and Peter rolled his eyes, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Pete’s 18 now so he’s a real grown up,” Bruce threw in, and even though he sounded like he was on Peter’s side, everyone knew by the glint in his eye that he was teasing.

“Yeah, sure, a grown up that wears Hello Kitty pajamas and can’t cut his own steak,” Tony chimed in, and Peter’s face flamed.

“Mr. Stark, that steak thing was one time!” Peter whined. “It was a very big steak is all, and I don’t remember me asking you to cut it for me.”

Tony shrugged, as if saying _ah_ , _details_.

“Aw baby spider,” Natasha fake cooed, holding out her arms. “Come here.”

Peter knew going to mama Natasha’s arms wouldn’t help his case, but he hadn’t seen Nat in a month due to busy schedules on his end and back to back missions on hers. He missed her a lot.

Peter took up Nat’s offer and sat next to her, leaning against her side. Peter turned to her. “I missed you, Nat.”

She gave him a smile that was reserved specifically for him, and gently placed her hand on his cheek. Nat began doing this two years ago, when the whole Skip thing went down, and never stopped so it became their thing. “Missed you too, Pete. I’m proud of you.”

Peter grinned, and hugged Nat tightly.

“Stop hogging the kid, Widow!” Clint exclaimed from the opposite end of the couch, throwing a pillow at her.

He seemed to regret his action almost immediately, because there was an evil glint in her eyes and she suddenly pounced towards him, and Clint let out an unmanly shriek before running away, Natasha trailing behind him.

Peter laughed, his heart feeling so full as he looked around the room. He loved them all so much.

Pepper sat down next to Peter and gave him a soft kiss to the side of his head. “Congratulations, Peter.”

Before Peter could thank her, Steve sat down next to him on his other side, and slid a gift box onto his lap. “Congratulations. This is from all of us.”

Peter gaped at each of them. “What? I told you guys that you didn’t need to get me anything.”

Everyone merely shrugged, and Peter shook his head exasperatedly yet gratefully.

He went to go unwrap his gift with shaky hands (Peter didn’t understand why they shook sometimes but they just did) and he let out a soft gasp.

“You guys...” Peter said, speechless. In the box was a photo frame, with writing addressed to Peter from everybody surrounding the photo in the middle, which was Peter’s favorite photo in the whole entire world.

The picture was taken on Peter’s 18th birthday at the Tower, and Peter didn’t even know the photo was being taken at the time.

Peter was in the middle of the photo, blowing out the candles on his giant cake (courtesy of Mr. Stark, of course, who refused to give Peter a regular sized cake for his 18th because _“what kind of mentor would I be?”_ ) and surrounding him was everybody: Aunt May, Mr. Stark, Pepper, MJ, Ned, Thor, Bruce, Clint, Nat,and Steve. Everybody had smiles on their faces while watching Peter blow out the candles and celebrating another year of life.

Peter’s eyes welled with tears and he hugged Steve tightly, before hugging Pepper, and then getting up to hug everybody else. “Thank you so much.”

He got to Mr. Stark and gave him quite possibly the tightest hug ever. “Ouch, Pete, remember, I’m an old man.”

Peter loosened his grip and stepped back, a smile on his face. “Oops. Sorry, Mr. Stark.”

Tony sniffed and looked at Peter, a million thoughts racing through his head, uncertain of which one to act upon.

“We, uh, thought it would be cool to get you something you could bring with you to ESU. God, how are you going to college already?” Tony hasn’t really meant to say the last part out loud; but it was something that really shook Tony to his core. He had known Peter for 4 years now, but it felt like eternity. He felt like Peter had been there his entire life, and so watching him graduate and prepare to go to Empire State University was... unnerving and shocking to Tony.

“Don’t go all Aunt May on me too! Before the ceremony, we were nearly late because she couldn’t get over how old I was getting, and she got a bit emotional,” Peter remarked.

Tony scoffed, “Yeah, you don’t need to worry about that. I’m not an emotional person.”

Peter quirked his eyebrow, and Tony placed his hand against his chest in mock offense. “First, you’ve been spending too much time with Cap- that’s his eyebrow raise right there. And second, I am _not_ emotional, Pete.”

“Sure,” Peter drawled, not believing him at all.

As the night drew on, Peter knew he had to eventually head back home. After a long goodbye, Tony had walked Peter down to the parking lot.

“Thanks again, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, itching to give his mentor another hug.

“Don’t sweat it,” Tony waved his hands.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter started. “Really. Thank you. I feel like I’m always thanking you, but I don’t think I’ll ever run out of things to thank you for. You saved my life. And I feel like so much is happening at once, and I’ll be going to college soon so I won’t be able to see you as often, although I promise to visit at least once every week. But I want you to know that you saved me. I’m here because of you. I really do love you, even though that word makes you cringe but I don’t care.”

Tony shook his head and looked down at his feet, emotions beginning to rise up his throat. How did the kid do it?

“Peter, you’re my kid. Point blank. You’ll always be my kid, for better or worse at this point. I’ll always protect you and I’ll always be there for you. Understand me? Just because you’re growing up and heading out into the real world doesn’t mean you have to go it alone. I’m always here for you.” Tony meant to keep his voice nonchalant, but towards the end, he couldn’t help the fear and anxiety of Peter being on his own inch into his words.

But Tony knew Peter was strong and smart. He’d be okay out there. And while he knew that Peter had to go out to the world and stretch his wings, Tony would always be there for him to come home too.

Peter nodded in understanding, his heart swelling. _Sure, not emotional at all_ , Peter thought but he smiled and kept it to himself.

“And... I love you, too, kid.”

 

-

 

“It’s good to see you, Peter. I heard that you recently graduated?” Lawrence, Peter’s therapist, asked.

Peter nodded his head. “Yeah, last week.”

“Congratulations, Peter! You did it. You should be very proud of yourself, you’ve made it so far.”

Peter smiled. “There’s still a long way for me to go, but I’m getting somewhere.”

Lawrence nodded along and crossed her legs. “I’m glad you recognize that. You’re making real progress. When I first met you two years ago, you barely spoke, and you hid so much of yourself. But now, you’re bright-eyed, open, and hopeful to heal. It’s a true pleasure to witness.”

“Let’s talk about the future. Life’s moving so fast for you now, how are you feeling about everything? How are you coping?”

Peter let out a breath and glanced down to his phone’s lock screen, which was the picture he had received as a gift from everybody last week.

Seeing the picture immediately pacified the nerves Peter felt about the future.

“Well...” Peter began, and off he went, despite the uncertainties and despite the fear.

Despite it all, Peter was no longer just surviving.

He was living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had so much love and hope in it- which was purposely done. I didn’t mean for this to be like a “happily ever after” sort of thing, because it’s not. Peter still has a long way to go, and things will not always be this happy. But the important thing is that Peter knows this, he’s learning to accept it, and he’s taking it each day at a time. 
> 
> He’s trying his best. And that is the best thing any of us could do on our own journey of healing. 
> 
> Now, this story is officially over. 
> 
> Reading your comments and hearing how this has touched so many of you has been the greatest thing to me. I am so happy and grateful that many of you had such a strong reaction to this story. My heart goes out to all of you!
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, thank you. 
> 
> As always, please take care of yourselves. 
> 
> Just as all the Avengers are for Peter, I’m rooting for each and every one of you! x


End file.
